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THE GHOST TRAIN 


s 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


BY 

RUTH ALEXANDER 

"R u't'V* 



PUBLISHERS 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
BOSTON 





7 


* 




Copyright, 1926 

By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

(Incorporated) 



Printed in the United States of America 


THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY 
CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

THE BOSTON BOOKBINDING COMTANY 
CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

NOV 29 1926 

©Cl A057293 

j 




PART I 


vj 










% 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


CHAPTER I 

Captain Edward Gascoigne Morrison, M. C., 
D. S. 0., formerly of His Majesty’s Welsh Fusil¬ 
iers, but since his war service transferred to the 
Foreign Department of the Secret Service, looked 
round at the chaos of the shattered studio, and then 
at the figure of the girl who still sat, with the look 
of a frightened dove, crouched upon the model’s 
throne in the corner. 

There had been a struggle. The floor of the great 
room, skylighted by an immense dust-encrusted 
window in the roof, lay thick with smashed pieces 
of sculpture and white with trodden clay and plas- 
ter-of-Paris. One small window at the side of this 
studio, which was on the ground floor of a back 
street in Cologne, allowed the thin rays of a winter 
sun to look in as if enquiringly on the scene of 
devastation. A chair standing in a semi-crippled 
condition on three legs — the fourth had been 
wrenched off and lay at some distance from the rest 
of its body — and a pair of tom green velvet cur- 
3 


4 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


tains that were huddled, still attached to pole and 
rings, before the model’s throne, added to the gen¬ 
eral wreckage. 

Teddie Morrison had got control of his breath 
again, and he stood eyeing the girl narrowly. 

64 Well? Where do you come into all this?” 

In spite of himself and his suspicions he asked 
the question with a certain air of gallantry, almost 
of deference. She looked so forlorn, so helpless, 
and so strangely beautiful with that frightened-dove 
look in her eyes. Eyes of misty blue, almost grey, 
they were, and dilated beneath the straight black 
brows in terror and despair, with a gleam of hope 
somewhere in their depths as she leaned forward 
eagerly. 

44 1 don’t know! I know nothing of these people! 
I am just a model. I was sitting waiting for Mr. 
d’Alvarez when all those men burst in. I’m so 
frightened! Help me — do help me!” She clasped 
her hands beseechingly. 

Morrison crossed his arms with a deliberate ges¬ 
ture. He was not certain of the girl in spite of her 
air of innocence. She was too unexpectedly beauti¬ 
ful. He judged that she was probably a decoy; one 
of that gang of international rogues they had traced 
to Cologne and he had been detailed to ferret out. 
Just a beautiful foil to throw dust in the eyes of any 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


5 


young member of the Secret Service who happened 
to be impressionable; and, like the hounds they 
were, they had left her in the lurch, left her to shift 
for herself and get out of the mess as best she might. 
On the other hand she might be a willing accom¬ 
plice, though somehow that idea seemed to him 
fantastic. 

66 What is it all about?” she begged him in an 
agitated voice. 66 Everything happened so quickly 
— and I was behind the curtains till some one 
dragged them down — I didn’t see-” 

She clutched the draperies that enveloped her 
slender figure more tightly about her; and Morri¬ 
son remembered that that length of shimmering silk 
was probably her only covering. He turned his 
back on her and spoke over his shoulder, curtly 
enough. 

64 Go and get dressed, in that cupboard in the 
corner, where your clothes are. Then we’ll talk.” 

She slid off the chair with a swift backward 
glance and descended the steps of the throne, pick¬ 
ing her way among the debris on the floor; Morri¬ 
son heard the patter of her bare feet as she crossed 
it, heard the closing of the door of the little room in 
the corner, then turned to face it, one hand in his 
coat pocket. 

He glanced round with his keen, bright, pene- 



6 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


trating eyes, then with a quick movement of his left 
hand drew from his other pocket a small roll of 
greyish substance. It might have been putty, it 
might have been a lump of dough made with fingers 
that had not been washed. He held it in his hand a 
moment and looked down at it reflectively; then, as 
the sound of the opening door reached his ears, 
thrust it back hastily into his pocket. 

The girl’s eyes, as she came over the studio floor 
towards him, were lowered to the bulge that little 
package within his hand made in his left pocket. 
They seemed fascinated by it; they were still held 
as she halted in front of him. 

66 Won’t you please,” she said after a moment, 
earnestly, pressing her hands together again, 44 ex¬ 
plain all this, and then let me go home?” Her eyes 
were raised imploringly, innocently, to his. 

66 Home? Do you live here? What are you, 
an English girl, doing as a sculptor’s model in 
Cologne?” 

66 1 live with my father,” she said simply. 44 He 
— we are very poor, and I consented to sit to Mr. 
d’Alvarez — oh, I hated it!—to help him. My 
father doesn’t know. He thinks I’m working at a 
dressmaker’s. I couldn’t bear him to know.” 

44 Poor kid!” Again in spite of himself and his 
better judgement, Morrison’s heart was touched. He 


7 


THE GHOST TRAIN 

couldn’t stand women’s tears, and she was begin¬ 
ning to cry. 46 There, there,” he went on hastily, 
and patted her shoulder. She dabbed her eyes, blew 
her nose, and returned the shred of linen that was 
her handkerchief to the black silk vanity bag she 
carried. 

He searched her face, trying to read if there was 
anything hidden there, but she met his eyes with a 
brave, firm glance. 44 Poor little devil!” he thought 
commiseratingly. 44 Bad job for her — I’d hate to 
be making a mistake about her, but still-” 

Aloud, he said gravely: 44 Tell me all you know 
about this business.” 

44 This business? But I don’t know anything! I 
only know that Mr. d’Alvarez told me to come at ten 
o’clock as usual, and when I got here a few minutes 
early, two of his friends (they often came, I knew 
them quite well) were sitting talking in the studio 
— those that the policemen (I suppose they were 
policemen, though there was so much German talk 
that I couldn’t understand) handcuffed and took 
away. Oh, there must be some awful mistake! I 
chatted with them a few minutes and then went away 
and un — got ready for Mr. d’Alvarez. He was fre¬ 
quently a few minutes late. I was behind the screen 
when he came in and most of the rest happened.” 

44 You don’t know then,” Morrison said slowly 



8 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


— for the life of him he couldn’t believe the girl 
was anything but innocent — 46 that this room has 
been used for the last three months as the head¬ 
quarters of one of the most famous gangs of inter¬ 
national crooks—if not worse—and that the police 
have been watching it night and day for weeks?” 

44 This room?” She looked round, wide-eyed 
with terror. 44 It can’t be! This sculptor’s studio!” 

44 And that we’ve just recovered the famous 
Oppenhaupt diamonds in this very room, hidden in 
a lump of soft clay?” He patted his pocket. 

44 Here? Impossible!” But again her eyes were 
rivetted on that pocket. 44 Here? And I-” 

She suddenly swayed limply and would have 
fallen to the floor if Morrison’s right arm had not 
shot out protectively and held her safe. She felt 
very small and slim in his grasp, and a slight thrill 
ran through him at the contact, though he said 
sternly enough: 

44 Come, now! Don’t faint, it would never do!” 

44 No, no—I’m not going to faint.” She straight¬ 
ened up with an effort and released herself from his 
arm. 44 It was such a shock.” All at once she looked 
at him again, startled by a new thought. 44 But I 
can go — you’re not-” 

44 I’m afraid,” Morrison said gently, 44 it’ll be a 
duty to arrest you on suspicion of being an accom¬ 
plice of these people.” 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


9 


44 Arrest me!" 

She whispered the words as if stricken with a 
horror too great for speech. 44 No, no, you can’t — 
you mustn’t! Not that!” 

44 Don’t worry, you’ll be able to clear yourself 
easily, I’ve no doubt. We’ll wait a few minutes for 
Jackson, my chief assistant, to come back from see¬ 
ing those crooks in safe keeping, and then-” 

44 Then?” she scarcely breathed the word. 

He gave a little reassuring laugh. 

44 Then—we’ll go to your father, and everything 
can be put right. But I’m bound to make enquiries, 
you know.” The detective spoke almost apologeti¬ 
cally. There was something magnetic about the 
proximity of this girl; he felt suddenly but strongly 
that he wanted to protect her, to place her in safe 
keeping. It was such a damned shame —- 

44 Yes,” she agreed faintly, but nevertheless, 
she glanced round with wide eyes as if surrepti¬ 
tiously seeking some way of escape. 

He watched her narrowly. Was she, after all, 
entirely innocent? Did she actually know nothing, 
or was she indeed a tool of that nefarious crowd? 
He would have staked his life at that moment that 
she was not a willing accessory. He made a shot at 
a venture. 

44 When they gave you that lump of clay to bring 




10 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


to the studio, didn’t you guess there might be some¬ 
thing inside it?” 

66 No — why should I?” 

46 Ah! You did bring it then?” he said sharply. 

She shrank away from him, silent, confused, 
panic-stricken before those penetrating eyes. Her 
own dropped. The lashes, he noticed, were very thick 
and black, as black as the hair that smoothly out¬ 
lined the shape of her head and caressed her tem¬ 
ples. She held her little grey-blue hat in a hand that 
trembled. He wanted to take it in his own, to still 
its quivering, but he repressed the urge. 

46 Sometimes,” she admitted in a low voice, 
46 they gave me small quantities of a special sort of 
clay D’Alvarez used for modelling, to bring to him.” 

44 They?” he studied her closely. 

44 Schnitz — and the others. Sculptor friends 
of his. Their studio is at-” 

44 Yes — I know all about those studios! The 
scoundrels! No more sculptors than I am. Those 
pieces of clay contained valuable gems — probably 
the whole Oppenhaupt collection, worth a hundred 
thousand — stolen last May from their London 
house.” 

Her straightforward statement had convinced 
him, against his better judgement, that the girl was 
innocent in spite of appearances; he reached out 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


11 


a hand and put it reassuringly on her shoulder. 

66 Don’t worry, little girl; I’ll see you through 
this. We’ve got most of the gang and I think their 
little schemes are nearly at an end. You’ll trust me, 
won’t you?” 

Her beautiful eyes swam in tears as they met 

his. 

66 Oh, thank you — thank you! It’s all so 
queer-” 

44 Yes, it is — very queer.” His voice was grim. 
44 We’ve been working on this crowd for months in 
conjunction with the German police. This is only 
one of their little adventures. If I’m not mistaken, 
they’re flying for higher game than this collection 
of jewels, valuable as they are.” 

44 Higher game? What?” 

The detective shook his head. He suddenly real¬ 
ised that he had already talked more than he ought 
to this girl, for a man whose business it was to dis¬ 
trust everybody; but there was something about 
those eyes of hers, something so queerly compel¬ 
ling— 

44 I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that. 
Anyway, they’re only suspicions; we’ve no evidence 
as yet.” 

She was silent a moment, apparently lost in 
thought; then she gave a sigh as if she had all at 




12 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


once become alive again to the peril of the situation 
in which she found herself. 

44 Please,” she begged anxiously, 44 mayn’t I go 
now?” 

44 Directly. Jackson should be back — ” Then 
he glanced down at his wrist-watch. It was hard to 
meet those eyes and deny her any request; he took 
refuge in the coward’s part of avoiding them, and 
almost as if she divined that by the uncanny sixth 
sense women possess, she laid her small hand on his 
arm and shook it gently, inviting his attention to 
meeting her glance again. 

44 He should be back now,” Morrison remarked, 
a little uneasily. 44 He had only to — ah!” 

Footsteps sounded in the wooden corridor out¬ 
side, and an instant later the door was thrown open. 
Jackson, a burly, middle-aged, grey-moustached 
sergeant of police, stood before them. He was pant¬ 
ing as though he had been running, and he checked 
the words on his lips as he caught sight of the girl. 

44 A moment with you, sir,” he said hurriedly, 
and gave a sideways nod of the head towards the 
corridor. 

Morrison slipped outside into the passage, hold¬ 
ing the door half-closed behind him. 

44 Well?” he said briskly. 

44 We lost two of ’em, sir, I’m afraid,” Jackson 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


13 


announced with philosophical calm. 64 One of ’em 
had some snuff in his pocket, and before we could 
get the bracelets on him he’d chucked it in the con¬ 
stables’ faces and made off. In the crowd of the 
Neumarkt they were gone in a moment. The slick¬ 
est lot I’ve ever been up against,” he finished 
lugubriously. 

44 Damnation!” Morrison was decidedly disap¬ 
pointed and perturbed at the intelligence, and was 
at no pains to hide the fact. 44 That’s a bad blow, 
Jackson. A very bad blow. Which two?” 

44 Schnitz and D’Alvarez, I’m afraid, sir.” 

The detective groaned. He stood nonplussed a 
moment; the lines of his good-looking young face 
set hard and firmly. It was devilish hard luck, just 
as he was pulling off the biggest scoop of his career, 
a scoop that would mean promotion and set him 
firmly on the next rung of the ladder; hard luck 
indeed! He hauled himself together with an effort. 

44 You did all you could, Jackson — it wasn’t 
your fault, though it’s a bit of a staggerer. We’ve 
bagged most of the jewels, anyway. Got the rest of 
’em all safe?” 

44 Safe as houses, sir. We’ll get ’em across as 
soon as the extradition warrant arrives. What about 
the young female, sir?” He jerked a thumb towards 
the studio. 


14 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 I’ll see to her. She’s not one of them, but I’m 
going to make a few enquiries,” Morrison replied 
noncommittally. 

66 Right, sir.” Jackson strode off down the pas¬ 
sage again, and the detective pushed the door open 
and went back into the studio. Then he gave an 
exclamation of dismayed surprise. The room was 
empty. 


CHAPTER II 


Morrison stood in the middle of the studio and 
glanced quickly about him, dazed for a moment by 
this second shock following on Jackson’s piece of 
bad news; then he stepped over the pieces of broken 
statuary and furniture to the small inner room, a 
mere cupboard in the wall, where the girl had 
dressed. That also was bare. There was, in fact, 
nothing whatever in it but a few pegs on the wall 
and a broken looking-glass. He darted across to the 
narrow window, and there, at his feet, was the clue 
to her disappearance. 

He stooped and picked it up, the small hat she 
had held in her hand; a grey-blue cloth or soft felt, 
the same colour as those dove-grey eyes. The win¬ 
dow was only wide enough to admit of the passage 
of a very slender little body such as hers. It was 
too small for his shoulders; he had to lean out side¬ 
ways, and, as he had foreseen, the quick glances he 
threw right and left were unproductive of result. 
She had completely vanished, and the street in 
which the studio was situated (one of those tortu¬ 
ous, dark and narrow lanes of the old inner town, at 
15 


16 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


one end of which he could catch a glimpse of the 
medieval towers of the Neumarkt) was now, at 
mid-day, almost empty of pedestrians. In the dis¬ 
tance showed the colossal equestrian statue of Fred¬ 
erick, gilded by the weak rays of the November sun. 
The house was almost in a corner; the street, in fact, 
practically a cul-de-sac. 

He withdrew his head, puzzled and oddly de¬ 
pressed ; and with the grey hat still in his hand tried 
to school his brain to a little heavy thinking. 

What a fool he had been to trust a woman’s eyes! 
It might, he thought grimly, be that she was the key 
to the whole problem, now that the principal movers 
in the game, the man known as Herr Otto Schnitz, 
and the other, his colleague, Rupert d’Alvarez, had 
got free again. They were, as he well knew, the 
head and brains of the whole concern; and with that 
girl in his hands — if indeed she did not prove her¬ 
self the innocent she claimed to be, and her flight 
seemed to give that supposition the lie — he might 
yet have run them to earth. Now- 

He turned back to the room with a sigh, thrust¬ 
ing the little hat into the capacious coat pocket 
which already held a small roll of soft china clay, 
and trying to put the memory of those frightened 
eyes away from him. For the next hour he submit¬ 
ted the room that had been long used as the head- 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


17 


quarters of the gang in the guise of a studio to the 
most rigorous search. The only pieces of plaster 
works, masks, and casts of limbs left intact after the 
struggle (and they were obviously cheap, machine- 
made things designed to throw enquirers off the 
scent) that had ensued on the entrance of the police, 
he smashed to atoms, dissecting each rigorously; 
and when he strolled carelessly off the premises, 
giving a casual and scarcely perceptible nod to two 
lolling figures bracing up the pillars of the front 
door as he passed, he was satisfied that he had got 
all that was likely to be useful to him out of the 
place. But the grey eyes haunted him uneasily as he 
made his way back to his hotel. 

He found Philip Heath, a young assistant of his, 
busily writing at a small table by the window as he 
entered the rather dingy room on the first floor of 
the second-rate hotel they occupied in an obscure 
street. Heath was a merry-looking boy of twenty- 
four or thereabouts, freckled, blue-eyed, and gen¬ 
erally with an air of regarding life as one enormous 
joke. Morrison and he were greatly attached to 
each other, and had been concerned together in a 
variety of adventures in that underworld of crime 
in which it was their business—and Heath’s intense 
pleasure — to move. 

66 Heath,” he said, “ give me a large Bock. An 


18 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


immense Bock. I need it, old son.” He threw his 
hat on the table and dropped wearily into a chair by 
the stove, neglecting to remove his overcoat. 

Heath rose to ring the bell for the waiter. 

44 Two large Bocks? ” he amended cheerfully. 

64 Thanks — I could do with two.” 

64 Oh, I say! One was for me — Three large 
Bocks ,” he ordered with a wide grin as the waiter 
appeared, and came and stood by the mantelpiece, 
looking down with affectionate concern at his 
friend’s tired figure. 

44 Don’t worry, Captain. We haven’t done so 
badly, y’know. The Chief will be no end pleased 
about the diamonds. That was the job, after all, 
wasn’t it? The recovery of the stones.” 

44 Glad you think so.” Morrison sounded de¬ 
spondent. 44 1 feel completely bunkered. Germany’s 
a big place to hide in. Of course we’ve got all the 
stations watched, as well as the docks and the air¬ 
way stations, but it’s hardly likely they’ll try the 
obvious means of escape, and it may be weeks 
before we pick up the threads again. We’re pretty 
certain to get those two, eventually, of course, but 
— ah!” He broke off as the waiter entered with the 
drinks, and lifting one of the three tall glasses from 
the tray, drained it. 

44 That’s better. You see, Heath, as Jackson prob- 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


19 


ably informed you, there’s a third party. They’ve 
been using a girl as a go-between; she’s been smug¬ 
gling fortunes in jewels across the city hidden in 
pieces of soft clay. Well, she got off, too. Slipped 
away while my attention was engaged with Jackson 
for half a minute.” 

Heath whistled. 64 Little apples! A girl, eh? 
That’s the devil! Girls are so beastly clever.” 

66 Whether she’s a party to the goings-on, I can’t 
say. I’m inclined to think she’s a mere dupe. Now, 
she apparently managed to drop out of that window 
in that so-called studio, and make off down the street 
without those two boobs guarding the door spotting 
her. How d’you suppose she did it, Heath?” 

46 Either she was extremely spry, or else they’re 
in league with the police,” Heath suggested. 44 These 
Germans have never given us more assistance than 
they were obliged to. Captain, that’s a certainty.” 

Morrison, sunk deep in his chair, chin on chest, 
remained thoughtfully silent. 

44 Anyhow,” he said presently, 44 1 propose — 
unless I’m recalled — to stay in Cologne for a bit 
and try and get on the track of ’em. There’s noth¬ 
ing much for you to do here, Heath, and I think 
you’d better get back to London. You’ve been no 
end of a help to me, but there doesn’t seem much 
more you can do. Any letters or orders?” 


20 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Heath crossed to the table, picked up and handed 
to him a few papers. 

64 These messages came ten minutes ago on the 
private wire. The Chief seems to think that that 
policeman’s death down in Cornwall is worth look¬ 
ing into, when we’re through here. Seems to think 
it’s important — of course, I’d much rather be here 
with you, Captain,” he added boyishly, 64 but if you 
think-” 

44 Better toddle off by the night boat,” Morrison 
advised. 44 Rather queer case, that chap being dis¬ 
covered with his head bashed in on a lonely Cornish 
road.” He handed the papers back after examining 
them; rose, and went to the window, looking out 
absently. 

44 There’s one thing makes me believe that girl’s 
innocent,” he reverted to the former conversation, 
speaking slowly with his back towards his friend. 
44 She was — undressed, ready for sitting as a model 
to that fake sculptor. Rather too realistic a perform¬ 
ance if it was all a put-up job, don’t you agree? You 
see there was no necessity for the — the altogether; 
he could just have been modelling her hands, or 
her feet, or her head. But still, one never knows. 
Women are beastly clever, as you so wisely remark, 
Heath.” 

Heath said nothing for a moment. He was watch- 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


21 


ing the detective with a certain amount of anxiety. 
This despondent mood was a new one to him, rather 
alarming in one so keenly capable of sizing up the 
various values in a situation, so philosophically sus¬ 
picious of everybody, even of the most blatantly 
innocent, and withal so cool-headed and even-tem¬ 
pered. Something seemed to have happened to the 
Captain that had rather badly shaken him, hardly 
accountable for by the escape of those thieves. That 
was all in the day’s work, serious though it might 
be; for Morrison certainly could never be accused 
of negligence in the performance of his duty. 

The boy was rather puzzled and worried on his 
friend’s account. A thought struck him. He voiced 
it, impulsively. 

46 Morrison, you don’t want to believe her 
guilty?” 

Teddie turned from the window and looked 
straight into the other man’s eyes. 

46 1 don’t, Heath, and that’s the truth.” 

44 Little apples!” murmured Heath in an amazed 
whisper. 


44 Get me the Yard, will you, Grube?” 

Captain Morrison had arrived at his rooms in 
Adam Street, Adelphi, three days later, in response 


22 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


to a wire from the Chief; tubbed and shaved after 
his journey back from Cologne, as he sat looking 
over some letters in his comfortable little sitting- 
room, the detective presented the appearance of a 
well-groomed, good-looking, energetic young man 
with a capacity for work. There was a concentra¬ 
tion in the eye, a squareness of the jaw, and a set 
determination of the mouth, which albeit exhibited 
a certain humour and a sweetness of temper to 
which Grube, who had been his batman in the war 
and had remained with Teddie Morrison ever since, 
could bear witness. 

46 You’re through, sir.” 

Morrison put down the envelope he was slitting 
and took the receiver from Grube’s hand. 

64 Hallo, Chief, that you? Morrison speaking. 
Yes, sir, just back, crossed by the night boat. Noth¬ 
ing very urgent? Very well, I’ll be round to report 
in an hour’s time, but I thought you’d better know 
I’d arrived.” 

He heard the Chief’s voice saying genially: 

44 Good. I suppose you think you’re a whale of 
a feller having nabbed those stones, eh?” 

Morrison gave a rueful chuckle. 

44 On the contrary, I’m feeling like a particu¬ 
larly small-sized sprat just now, sir. You know the 
two heads of the gang gave us the slip — got away 


THE GHOST TRAIN 23 

in that jabbering crowd of foreigners in the square 
— completely diddled us.” 

66 So I gathered. I suppose you have taken the 
necessary steps?” 

44 Oh, rather. You’ll have seen Jackson already. 
We’ll get ’em yet. We seem to have rounded up the 
rest pretty thoroughly.” He hesitated the merest 
trifle; and the Chief appeared to read something sig¬ 
nificant into that hesitation at the other end of the 
line. 

66 Got ’em all, you think, except Schnitz and 
D’Alvarez? Anybody else?” 

Morrison paused a moment before replying. 

66 There was a woman,” he said; and the figure 
of the girl with the frightened eyes rose visibly 
before him as he spoke. 

66 Ah!” 

66 But I don’t think she was anything more than 
a tool,” he went on with suspiciously elaborate 
nonchalance. 66 She got away anyhow. Slipped out 
of the window while my back was turned for a 
second talking to Jackson, who’d returned with news 
of the escape.” 

66 Ah!” The Chief’s voice sounded cool and 
deliberate as he repeated the word. He had had 
the whole story from Jackson, of course. 46 Doesn’t 
look like innocence, does it?” 


24 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 1 admit it doesn’t, Chief; but still I’ve got a 
feeling-” 

66 Doesn’t do to have feelings where women of 
that sort are concerned. Take my advice, young fel¬ 
ler, cut ’em out. And now, another piece of advice. 
You’ve been working pretty hard lately, Morrison. 
Take a few weeks’ holiday; you’ll come back all the 
fitter.” 

66 But I’m perfectly fit, sir!” 

Morrison was startled; his heart dropped. He 
knew what that suggestion meant coming from the 
Chief at such a moment. It conveyed, delicately and 
genially enough, the fact that the Chief didn’t con¬ 
sider his work quite up to that pitch of concentrated 
service on the job that was required. It meant that 
the Chief recognised no excuse for letting those two 
master-criminals slide out of the net; that the cap¬ 
ture of the jewels themselves was but a secondary 
consideration in comparison with the urgency of 
stopping the evil at its source. It meant that he had 
given the young detective a job just a little bit too 
heavy for him; and that he had — well, not quite 
failed, perhaps — but that the Chief’s confidence 
had not been so perfectly placed as he had thought 
it to be. 

“ And I’m in the middle of the business, Chief,” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 25 

he urged. 44 1 don’t want to let go at this juncture 
— I’d like to finish my job.” 

“ You’ll come back all the fresher, my boy, and 
have your chance yet.” The voice, kindly still, was 
emphatic enough, and Morrison knew it was no good 
kicking against the pricks. His heart dropped a 
further inch or two. 

44 Or get onto some light thing if you don’t want 
a rest,” the Chief advised. 44 What about that Cor¬ 
nish business?” 

44 I’ve got Heath onto that.” Teddie could not 
keep the disappointment from his voice. To offer 
him the solving of some small affair connected with 
a policeman’s death in a remote country village 
which would in all probability turn out to be a 
44 natural causes ” matter, when he was in the throes 
of working on one of the biggest hauls of the time! 
He must have failed badly indeed in the Chief’s 
eyes. 

44 Well, good-bye, Morrison. I’ll be here to see 
you about twelve, when you can give me all your 
details. Meantime, think over my advice. ’Bye!” 

Morrison replaced the receiver slowly. 

He felt quite badly shaken by the Chief’s atti¬ 
tude. Thinking it over, he realised it was after his 
mention of the girl that he had got that nasty little 


26 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


piece of 66 advice ”— advice which was, as he well 
knew, a very definite command. Surely the Chief 
didn’t think she had anything to do with the escape 
— didn’t imagine him neglecting his duty because 
he was blinded by a woman’s eyes! 

Anyhow, the Chief had administered a most 
emphatic snub, just in a moment, too, when he was 
thinking he hadn’t done so badly. That necklace of 
diamonds alone was supposed to be worth forty 
thousand pounds. Still, he had to admit the very 
fact of its value was earnest of the gravity of the 
thieves’ escape. They were abroad in the world to 
conduct even more nefarious schemes — and it was 
he, Morrison, who had been given the chance as a 
brilliant young member of the Foreign Department, 
to bring them to earth. 

He was chagrined to the core. 

66 A telegram for you, sir,” Grube’s voice behind 
him cut into these unpleasant meditations. 

Morrison broke the seal almost mechanically 
and read. Then he leaped to his feet. 

46 Good God!” he cried aghast. 66 Heath — he’s 
been found dead!” 


CHAPTER III 


“That alters the whole complexion of the affair. 
In following up the matter of that Truro Staff man’s 
death, Heath stumbled on this legend. A mere silly 
rumour of a haunted railway station among a lot of 
superstitious country folk, is one thing; and murder 
— first the murder of P. C. Davies, and then the 
death of poor Heath on the very platform — is 
another.” The Chief frowned heavily at the pink 
flimsy he held in his hand. 44 If it was murder.” 

“ Heath was my best assistant and one of the 
finest boys that ever walked,” said Morrison deject¬ 
edly. 44 I feel as though I’ve lost a brother, Chief. 
It’s my belief that there’s something more in that 
tale than meets the eye. We hadn’t even had time 
for a report on his investigations. Obviously, in 
spite of his tramp’s disguise, his movements were 
noticed, and he wasn’t wanted nosing about.” He 
added, 44 I think, Chief, I’ll take that holiday you 
offered me — in Cornwall.” 

44 Fine,” returned the big man with the kindly 
eyes sitting behind a great desk in his office in Scot¬ 
land Yard. 64 Fine. You may be on a bigger thing 
than we thought, Morrison. Good luck to you.” 

44 Thanks.” Morrison’s voice was a little bitter. 

27 


28 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


He rose from his chair. 66 By the way, who’ve you 
put on the Schnitz affair, Chief?” 

66 Barlow,” replied the other, and added in an 
almost apologetic tone, 64 he’s had a lot of experi¬ 
ence in these cases, as you know.” 

The Chief hadn’t upbraided him — hadn’t even 
hinted that he considered the detective’s Cologne 
adventure had been a failure, but Morrison knew 
only too well that for the moment, at any rate, he 
would be given no more big chances. And Barlow 
happened to be the one man of all others he would 
hate to see straighten out a piece of work he had 
messed up! 

44 Show up in about a month’s time,” the elder 
man advised in a friendly manner, 44 unless, of 
course, anything of real interest has come along in 
the meantime. And if you want any men-” 

44 Thanks, Chief. Not just now,” Morrison 
returned. 44 1 think I’ll take the afternoon train 
down and have a bit of a look round on my own 
first, if you agree, in my private capacity.” 

44 Right.” The Chief extended a hand and shook 
the other’s warmly. He sighed. He knew just how 
badly Morrison was feeling, and was sorry for him. 
These boys had to be taught their duty — they were 
like the captains of ships, and however small the 
vessel or however large, they were responsible for 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


29 


the safety of the whole outfit or the minutest part 
of it; and perhaps, after all, he had been mistaken in 
regarding Morrison as one of his most promising 
disciples. And obviously he had been badly hit by 
that wire about young Heath. A pity that. He 
sighed again, shook his head, and pressed a bell on 
his table. 

66 Tell that Press Association feller to step up,” 
he ordered crisply to the clerk who appeared in 
answer to his summons. 


46 Put a few things together for me, Grube. I’m 
off for a holiday on my own.” 

“Very good, sir.” 

Teddie Morrison, catching the three-thirty from 
Paddington, arrived in Truro a little before half- 
past ten that evening. An empty carriage towards 
the end of the journey had given him the oppor¬ 
tunity to affix a small black moustache to his lip, 
and to don a pair of smoked tortoise-shell rimmed 
spectacles, effectively changing his appearance. He 
observed that, by some oversight, or perhaps by a 
delicate pretence at not noticing its presence — 
Grube had left the little grey-blue felt hat in his 
valise. It cheered his heavy heart curiously. 

He slept late, and descending to the coffee-room 


30 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


of the cheap hotel he had chosen, much affected by 
commercial travellers, he picked up a Daily Mail 
whilst waiting for his breakfast to be brought. His 
eye was immediately caught by an inch-deep head¬ 
line the length of the front page: 

CLEVER HAUL OF THIEVES’ BOOTY 
and beneath in smaller letters: 

PORTION OF OPPENHAUPT £ 100,000 DIAMONDS 
RECOVERED 

YOUNG DETECTIVE’S SCOOP 

His eye travelled down the page and he read: 

46 We are informed by Scotland Yard to-day 
that the recovery of a large portion of the booty 
stolen from Mr. Isaac Oppenhaupt’s London man¬ 
sion has been achieved through the instrumentality 
of Captain Edward G. Morrison, a young and prom¬ 
ising member of the Foreign Section of the C. I. D. 
Secret Service. The capture of a necklace, the gem 
of the collection-” 

There was only one forlorn-looking gentleman 
of the road engaged in picking his teeth after his 
meal at a table near the window, as Morrison saw by 
a quick glance, and he allowed himself the softly 
uttered exclamation of amazement, 44 Well, I’m 
damned!” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


31 


He wondered what the deuce the Chief was play¬ 
ing at! It was rather like him to pay a backhanded 
compliment of that sort, he thought, with a glow of 
gratitude; though nothing much in his attitude at 
their interview had given Morrison to understand 
that the Cologne business had been anything but the 
most dismal failure. Still, there was no fathoming 
the Chief’s methods about anything. One just 
trusted him implicitly and did as one was told and 
took the crumbs he threw one. But coming as it did 
at that precise moment, when he was feeling bit¬ 
terly downhearted about Heath, the Chief’s loyalty 
sent a warm glow through him. 

That little piece of praise, unmerited though it 
might be, lightened his heart most considerably as 
he set out for his destination, the station of Fal Vale 
where his pal and understudy had so mysteriously 
met his end. It made him determined to use every 
ounce of his brain and strength to fathom the mys¬ 
tery. Decent of the Chief! 

No one else alighted at the little junction, and 
he found himself the solitary occupant of the plat¬ 
form on a soft November morning, with the excep¬ 
tion of the station-master who appeared to be guard, 
porter, ticket-collector, and everything else con¬ 
nected with the working of the remote little country 
station on the Great Western, and who eyed him 


32 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


suspiciously out of a pair of ferrety-green eyes half 
hidden beneath bushy, grizzled eyebrows that, in 
conjunction with a hawk-beak of a nose, gave him 
a vague likeness to some evil bird of prey. 

46 How far is the village?” Morrison asked, ten¬ 
dering his ticket. 

46 Village? There bain’t no village ’ere,” re¬ 
sponded the man, regarding him sourly, as if in his 
opinion the solitary passenger had no business to 
have got out of the train at all. 

44 What? No village?” Morrison stumped the 
small bag he was carrying down on the platform, 
with an air of exasperation. 44 Well, I’m-” 

44 No use swerin’, young man. There bain’t no 
village and that’s all there is to it.” The station- 
master turned sternly on his heel. 

44 Wait a bit. My firm wouldn’t have sent me 
if there hadn’t been any people here, and people 
must eat, even at Fal Vale.” The traveller was trot¬ 
ting persistently and rather pathetically at the heels 
of the other as he spoke. 44 You must eat. Now 
what about interesting you in this new Patent Food 

-?” He was fumbling with the catch of his bag 

as he spoke. 

44 Patent Food!” The station-master turned with 
a disgusted glance. 44 And what do ’ee think I wants 
wi’ they muck? There arent no people within miles 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


33 


and we gets all the food we requires ’ere from 
T’uro by carrier, once a week, and we bakes our 
own bread an’ milks our own cows. Patent Food!” 
He sniffed contemptuously. 

66 Oh, well-” Teddie Morrison closed the 

bag again. 44 1 suppose I must just wait here till the 
train to Exeter comes along. You’ve been getting 
quite notorious, I hear,” he added genially. 44 Had 
a little murder all on your own a few days ago, the 
papers say, Mr.-what might your name be?” 

44 My name’s Hodgkin, Saul Hodgkin,” the 
other informed him heavily, in a tone that conveyed 
the impression that it was almost an impertinence to 
enquire. 44 An’ it warn’t a murder at all. The Lun- 
non newspapers always do get everythin’ wrong side 
up. Anybody in this ’ere neighbourhood could tell 
’ee what killed that tramp in our very waiting- 
room.” 

44 No! Do tell me! It’ll liven up the weary wait. 
This is the waiting-room, I suppose.” He walked in 
and Mr. Hodgkin surveyed him disagreeably from 
the door. 44 It sounds exciting!” The commercial 
traveller peered through his dark glasses in lively 
anticipation. 

44 Excitin’! You must come from outlandish 
parts, young man, if you bain’t ’eard tell as ’ow 
this station’s ’aunted!” 




34 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 Haunted!” Teddie burst into an incredulous 
laugh. 44 Really now, things like that don’t happen 
in these days, you know.” 

66 Don’t laugh, sir. They ’appen ’ere right 
enough. Years ago there was a ’orrible accident 
near this station, and the place ’as been bewitched 
ever since. They do say, that once a month, the 
phantom of that ghostly train rushes through this 
’ere station an’ kills whoever sees it pass.” 

There was no mistaking the solemnity of the 
station-master’s voice. 

66 And your idea is that the tramp saw that train, 
and died in consequence?” Morrison laughed again 
derisively. 64 Sorry, my good man, but I really 
can’t swallow that. It’s a bit of a tall story now, 
isn’t it?” 

44 Believe it or not, as you please,” the station- 
master said steadily. 44 1 warns everybody as I 
warns you now, not to linger about this place after 
dark, that’s all, for their own sakes. Stranger 
things happen than men can account for sometimes. 
And now, good-day to you, sir. I’ve got my dinner 
to eat afore the next train’s due, and I can’t waste 
more time ’ere. Your train goes at two-thirty.” 

He trudged off down the platform, and Morri¬ 
son watched him with narrowed eyes. Then he 
turned back to the waiting-room and taking off his 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


35 


dark glasses, quickly made a general and particular 
survey of the place, including the ticket-office that 
gave off from it, a dark and dismal hole with appar¬ 
ently no other outlets than the pigeon-hole whence 
tickets were issued and (as he would not have 
observed but for the gleam of a thin, horizontal 
streak of light) perhaps twenty-four inches above 
the floor in a corner of the wooden wall, a hatchway 
a couple of feet square, used probably for the 
receipt of small parcels and to avoid carrying them 
round through the waiting-room. 

Emerging, he gave another swift glance round 
the waiting-room, noticing the usual smoke-grimed 
windows, the neglected hearth in which there was 
the usual handful of fire burning, the dirty and out- 
of-date posters, advertising long-discontinued trips, 
stuck on the walls, the hard and uncompromising 
seats and the shiny central table that made up the 
ordinary equipment of waiting-rooms. Nothing to 
arouse one’s suspicions there, certainly! 

But as he left the short length of platform and 
turned through a gap in the iron railings to the 
chalk road, by the side of the little red-brick signal- 
box, he became suddenly aware of a pair of pierc¬ 
ing greenish eyes under beetling brows that were 
watching him from round the comer of the signal- 
box. 


36 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


The traveller in Patent Foods went on his casual 
way, whistling disarmingly, and looking about him 
with the vague interest that any one stranded in a 
one-eyed hole for a couple of hours, with nothing to 
break the monotony, takes in his surroundings. 

Why was Saul Hodgkin taking so much interest 
in his movements? Why wasn’t he getting his din¬ 
ner, as he had announced his intention of doing? 


CHAPTER IV 


The watching eyes of Mr. Saul Hodgkin puzzled 
Teddie Morrison as he made his way from the sta¬ 
tion along a lonely stretch of road towards the sea, 
that showed a grey-blue mist between rocky prom¬ 
ontories ahead of him. As grey-blue and misty as 
a pair of eyes he had left behind him in Cologne, 
but which seemed, nevertheless, to be continually 
present with him. He put the vision away resolutely 
now to face the matter in hand. 

The road ended half a mile on in a small granite 
jetty that stuck out like a crooked finger pointing 
into the sea itself, and was apparently the only sort 
of harbour or breakwater the place could boast. A 
small fishing boat or two lay rocking in the water 
alongside; a few gulls circled round the rocks, call¬ 
ing their plaintive note; otherwise but for the lap of 
the waves there was silence, and no sign of humanity 
disturbed the general aloof remoteness of the place. 
Above, on the hillsides, white scars and conical piles 
of earth showed where mines, probably tin, had been 
worked. Now they were disused, but the old rail¬ 
way line with two black smudges, which he made out 
to be a couple of derelict trucks still standing on it 
37 


38 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


far up on the hill, wound its length from the jetty 
and around towards the summit, past the yawning 
cavities of the pits. 

Three small stone cottages, perhaps fishermen’s 
or discarded coastguard cottages, claimed his atten¬ 
tion a hundred yards farther on along the sea-road. 
In the window of one he noticed a few packets of tea 
and a collection of fly-blown lemonade bottles. He 
pushed open the door; it set the bell clanging loudly. 
A small girl entered from an inner door and stood 
primly behind a tiny counter on which were arrayed 
four bottles of sweets, a diminutive pair of scales, 
and one or two loaves of bread. 

66 Good morning,” Morrison began, when he was 
interrupted by a raucous voice shrilling from the 
interior of the place. 

66 If it’s another tramp, Gladys, tell ’un to be off. 
We don’t want no more o’ them about the place.” 

64 ’Tain’t a tramp, ma,” the child called, and 
eyed the stranger with shy curiosity. A red-faced, 
stout woman with a wooden leg stumped into view 
and pushed the little girl aside. 

64 Beg pardon, sir, but we’ve been that bothered 
over the tramp that died up in the station that it’s 
made us a bit suspicious-like.” 

66 Ah! I heard something about that. What did 
he die of?” the stranger asked casually. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


39 


The red-faced woman shook her head. 66 If I 
could tell ’ee that, sir, I could tell the police that’s 
been pesterin’ me the last two days as well.” Her 
voice dropped. 66 Folks do say that it had something 
to do with the hauntin’ o’ the station. You’ve heard 
about that, maybe?” 

66 The station-master mentioned something of it 
to me. But surely you don’t believe that story?” 

66 Can’t help but believe it, sir,” she returned 
with a shake of the head. 64 You see, that poor fel¬ 
low came in here once or twice, dead tired and hun¬ 
gry, and I gave him a bite and cup o’ tea. An’ for 
my pains I’ve been worritted nearly into my grave 
wi’ questions ever since ’e was took. Nice young 
chap, too, though ’e were a down an’ out. Can I 
serve you wi’ something, sir? ’Tisn’t rightly a shop, 
but I oblige people passing sometimes. ’Tis a lonely 
spot an’ they’re few enough.” 

Morrison bought sixpennyworth of peppermint 
drops and having failed to interest the good lady in 
Patent Foods, bid her good day. 

It wasn’t rightly a shop, as she had said — but 
why had the station-master so emphatically denied 
the existence of people in the vicinity? The presence 
of inquisitive strangers was evidently disliked at 
Fal Vale. What lay behind it? 

The mere existence of a thoroughly accredited 


40 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


ghost would hardly account for this anxiety on the 
part of the inhabitants to keep strangers away from 
the neighbourhood. On the contrary, the story 
might, if properly worked, have been regarded as 
an asset, calling attention to the place in a way more 
tangible advantages (such as 66 a bracing climate, 
sea-fishing, good bathing and magnificent views ”) 
could never have done. Obviously business acumen 
was lacking in the local residents. 

And now, the notoriety of a sudden death by 
means unknown, on the very platform of the little 
station itself (P. C. Davies’ sudden end had been 
hushed up, of course), was calculated to add to its 
unenviable reputation. It seemed a culminating 
step in the plan to keep unwanted visitors off the 
track — of what? Had poor Heath in his tramp’s 
guise been the victim of some dastardly plot? Or 
was he, Morrison, letting imagination run away 
with him? In that mist-enwreathed and lonely bay, 
frowned over by lowering clouds, wailed over by 
hovering birds, almost anything seemed credible. 
Mystery seemed to be in the very air, he thought, as 
he climbed the sea-road and looked down over the 
waste of waters that held the secrets of countless gen¬ 
erations, and up at the towering rocks that hovered 
over them to sentinel those same secrets. No wonder 
the place bred a race of superstitious peasantry! 


THE GHOST TRAIN 41 

But still, all that didn’t account for the tragic 
death of poor Heath. 

Morrison had nearly reached the summit of the 
slope that was steadily rising amid rock on one side 
and a tangle of undergrowth and leafless trees sheer¬ 
ing down to the sea on the other, when two things 
happened. Turning one of the hairpin bends that 
had been made to allow of vehicular traffic up the 
hill, he came suddenly upon a large board placed 
across the mouth of a crevice in the cliff, obviously 
the opening to what appeared to be one of the dis¬ 
used mines, and bearing the words, 44 The Silver¬ 
way Clay Works.” 

The odd thing was that the board appeared to 
have been newly painted. 

In this region of derelict mines and the lifeless 
remains of a vanished industry, the effect was start¬ 
lingly disconcerting; and while he stopped to stare, 
the second strange thing happened. 

He heard a light step behind him, and there 
came into view round the bend he had just negoti¬ 
ated the figure of a girl. She passed him, and in 
doing so turned to stare in astonishment. Morrison 
found himself looking, through his smoked glasses, 
into a pair of blue-grey eyes, the colour of a dove’s 
breast. There could be no mistaking them, for him 
— they were the eyes of the girl of the Cologne 
studio. 


CHAPTER V 


He stood staring after her as, following that 
one look — and was he right in thinking that there 
crept into her glance a sudden light of fear? —- 
she went on walking rapidly up the hilly road awa) 
from him. She was wearing a loose cloak that he 
could swear was of the same colour as the little hat 
that lay so snugly folded in a corner of his suit-case 
back at the Truro Hotel — thundery grey, nebulous 
as a cloud. 

For a full minute Teddie Morrison was inclined 
to disbelieve the evidence of his own eyes. The next 
he had recovered his presence of mind and started 
after her. 

But one can walk quite a long way in a minute, 
especially if some emotion resembling fright lends 
wings to one’s feet. 

So Teddie Morrison thought; but the fact was, 
absurd as it seemed, that all at once the girl in the 
grey cloak vanished from his sight as completely as 
if she had never been there. After the next cor¬ 
ner (she had had that minute’s start of him, of 
course), there was a long stretch of almost flat 
road ahead at the summit of the cliff — and nothing 
on it. 


42 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


43 


Teddie stopped in his tracks after a few min¬ 
utes’ frantic walking. He was completely mystified. 
Hang it all, it simply wasn’t done, even in this 
ghost-infested district! Perhaps she was the ghost 
itself! He let slip a laugh of sheer nervous vexa¬ 
tion at his thought and the futility of the thing. The 
ghost! The ghost that manned the train, the ghost 
that had killed Heath and the policeman! He looked 
back and forth, up and down the road which was 
now little more than a cliff path; up at the sky and 
down at the misty sea far below. He could see no 
outlet, no way by which she could have escaped his 
trained eye, unless she had slipped down the preci¬ 
pice among the undergrowth. And yet, there was the 
fact — she had been and was not. Perhaps all this 
business of ghosts was getting on his brain — per¬ 
haps, after all, he really did need that holiday the 
Chief insisted on his taking! 

To add to his discomfiture, one of those Cornish 
mists that rise with such dramatic suddenness was 
taking possession of the world in a most annoying 
fashion. He knew it was useless to make any further 
investigation at the moment, and with a sigh of 
baffled reluctance, he retraced his steps towards the 
station, almost believing that the whole thing had 
been a dream. 

He wished he had some one to talk to, to assure 


44 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


him of the reality of existence; the Chief, or poor 
Heath — Heath had always had bright ideas. 

The packet of chocolate he invariably provided 
himself with was real enough, anyhow, and he drew 
it from his pocket and ate as he walked, feeling 
hungry. The mist had closed in in good earnest and 
the train was waiting when he reached the platform. 
The station-master was not in evidence. He took 
his seat in an empty carriage. He was, so far as he 
could see, the only passenger again. Huddled in 
a corner, staring out through the windows at the 
obscuring white mist, he started some of that hard 
thinking the situation seemed to call for. 


66 1 mean to get to the bottom of this business, 
Superintendent, and I am staying in the neighbour¬ 
hood until I do — or until they get me as they got 
poor Heath.” 

Morrison, minus his disguise of smoked spec¬ 
tacles but still retaining his small black moustache 
like a couple of smutty finger-prints beneath his 
good-looking nose, leaned over the back of his chair 
and looked at Superintendent Fuller of the Truro 
Police Division, with determination in his eyes. 
They were sitting in the Superintendent’s office the 
same afternoon. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


45 


64 You tell me this ghost train affair is all moon¬ 
shine—that the legend was in existence long before 
your time. All right. The fact remains that the first 
moment any attempt at investigation has been made, 
they manage to put the investigator out of the way. 
They must have known Heath wasn’t a tramp. 
How? Why? And what connection had Davies’ 
death with the affair? Where’s it linked up? I tell 
you, Fuller, it looks to me very suspicious.” 

The Superintendent looked down at him in 
silence, but there was an indulgent little twinkle in 
his eye. He was a good fellow, but apt to be scepti¬ 
cal of fancies. The Division had no use for ghost 
stories; the Cornish were always full of ’em. He 
couldn’t see any linking up between a legendary 
train and the deaths of two policemen, queer though 
those events were. 

44 Besides, Heath was a pal of mine.” 

The Superintendent ceased twinkling. 

44 I’m sorry about Mr. Heath, Captain Morrison. 
But though the manner of Davies’ death hasn’t been 
established, of course, everything points to the fact 
that he came along that cliff road at a crucial 
moment when a large piece of rock loosened itself 
from the hillside. He was bicycling home from 
seeing a friend. On his way back, taking a near 
cut, the poor chap seems to have been unlucky 


46 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


enough to be in the way of the big stone we found 
by his side. His helmet was bashed in, and lay 
close by.” 

Morrison brooded. He had not mentioned the 
flashing glimpse he had caught of that girl on the 
cliff road — the very road where P. C. Davies had 
come to his end. What was the connecting link 
between the three events — if any? Could it be 
that she was in some way concerned with the death 
of Heath? The idea appalled and shocked him 
strangely. He tried to deny it house room in his 
thoughts, but it persisted with disagreeable inten¬ 
sity. 

“ What verdict was returned on Davies, Super¬ 
intendent?” he asked presently. 

“ Death from misadventure.” 

Morrison leaned over and knocked the ashes 
from his pipe on the bars of the grate in which a 
cheerful fire blazed. 

64 When is the inquest on Heath?” 

66 To-morrow morning.” 

66 I’d like to see him, Fuller.” 

Fuller rose. 66 The mortuary is at the end of that 
long corridor, just across the yard,” he said, open¬ 
ing the door to point the way, and Morrison went 
out. 

Looking down on the quiet face from which the 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


47 


fun and nonsense had forever gone, Morrison felt 
his heart contract. That thought about the girl, the 
girl that had so queerly and unexpectedly taken 
hold of his emotions, came again. Why, almost the 
last words he had spoken to Heath in the hotel at 
Cologne had been about her! He had said that he 
didn’t want to believe her guilty of intriguing with 
the crooks he was after, and Heath had ejaculated 
in a silly little childish exclamation he often used, 
“ Little apples!” and given one of his happy little 
chuckling laughs at the idea of old Morrison being 
bowled over by a girl at last. He could hear the 
very sound again, see the surprised look in Heath’s 
merry eyes. For that was what Morrison’s remark 
had been tantamount to — a confession of love for 
that girl, the girl who was probably no better than a 
thief herself, and who was quite possibly instru¬ 
mental in bringing about the untimely death of his 
best friend. 

He closed the door of the cold little chamber 
where Heath lay in his last sleep and went back to 
the Superintendent’s office feeling sick at heart. 

66 Superintendent,” he said, 46 1 suppose the 
coroner will direct the jury to bring in a verdict 
of death from natural causes — or from causes 
unknown? There were no marks of violence on the 
body?” 


48 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


“ None, except a slight bruise on the right tem¬ 
ple which might have been caused by falling on the 
corner of one of the forms in the station waiting- 
room. It’s quite on the cards that’s how he came by 
his death,” he added suggestively. 44 Or perhaps 
heart failure.” 

Morrison looked relieved. 

44 Good. The less fuss about this matter the bet¬ 
ter. You’ll want me to identify the body, I suppose. 
Now, one more question. Do you know anything 
of a concern calling itself the Silverway Clay 
Works upon the hill above Fal Vale station?” 

44 Not much,” replied the Superintendent. 44 A 
small company started about a couple of years 
ago, but I fancy they found most of the china clay 
had been dug out years since. The place is riddled 
with quarries, like a rabbit warren, up there — tin 
and clay, most of ’em disused now. These people 
thought they’d struck a seam, but they don’t seem to 
do much, though I believe they employ a few men. 
Run by two brothers called Silverton and one 
Price.” 

44 Live thereabouts?” 

The Superintendent shook his head. 44 As far as 
I know, there’s no houses at Fal Vale except a few 
cottages down by the sea. But don’t take my word 


THE GHOST TRAIN 49 

for it, I haven’t examined the district myself, though 
Inspector-” 

66 No, don’t bother him now. I’ll do a little 
examining of my own and let you know if I want 
any help. I’m really on this job in an unofficial 
capacity, you know, Fuller, because Heath was my 
friend. Many thanks all the same.” 

But, out in High Street, Morrison turned into 
the main post office and sent a coded wire to the 
Chief at Scotland Yard asking for the assistance of 
Jackson as soon as he could he spared. 



CHAPTER VI 


In the cobbled courtyard of the 64 Black Sheep ” 
the boots was cleaning his bicycle, whistling lightly 
the while. Watching him from his first-floor bed¬ 
room window, before which he was brushing his 
hair the next morning, the detective suddenly ceased 
the vigorous scrubbing of his scalp with alternate 
left and right-hand movements, and put the brushes 
back on the dressing-table, arrested by a thought. 
One of the minor problems that had crossed his 
mind in thinking over the job ahead was that of 
transport. The mysterious something about the 
neighbourhood of Fal Vale, and particularly of the 
little station that had acquired such ill report, neces¬ 
sitated caution, especially when he remembered the 
curiously intent stare of those greenish-grey eyes 
of Saul Hodgkin, the station-master and general 
factotum. 

Perhaps, though, the man’s curiosity had been 
natural enough in the circumstances. One 44 for¬ 
eigner ” had met an untimely end within the very 
waiting-room of which he was in charge — other 
strangers might easily be regarded with suspicion 
— why, probably Hodgkin even suspected him, 
Morrison, of having some connection with the death 
50 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


51 


of the tramp! Trains, therefore, even if they had 
not been so few and far between, were taboo; and 
equally, a strange car would cause unwelcome inter¬ 
est in the minds of the few inhabitants. 

Finishing his dressing and donning his smoked 
glasses, Morrison descended the stairs and went 
through the broad corridor out to the back of the 
building, standing idly at the door and watching the 
lad at his work. 

“That’s a nice machine,” he remarked pres¬ 
ently. Boots looked up. 

“ Her warn’t so bad when her were new, sir, a 
matter of two year or so.” 

“ Care to hire her out for a few days?” Morri¬ 
son asked casually. 

The boy considered a moment, stopped his rub¬ 
bing and glanced up with the shrewd eye to a bar¬ 
gain of the true Cornishman. 

“ That all depends, sir. I use her a goodish bit, 
off and on.” 

66 Ten shillings a day is about the figure I had 
in mind,” Morrison suggested. “ I might want her 
for a week, perhaps less. My bag of samples is a 
bit heavy, and a car would cost too much. There 
doesn’t seem much business doing in the villages 
round about.” 

The Cornish lad looked at the commercial trav- 


52 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


eller as though he thought he was slightly mad. Per¬ 
haps the bicycle was worth three pounds, perhaps 
less; and anybody might hire a cycle from a shop 
for half-a-crown a day. 

64 Right, sir,” he agreed hastily, half fearing 
the splendid offer might be retracted before it was 
accepted. 44 I’ll give her a bit of an extra polish-up 
and leave her here in the yard for ’ee, sir.” 

44 Good!” Morrison selected a couple of pound 
notes from his pocket, handed them to the boy and 
strolled back to the coffee-room. 

After breakfast, the traveller strapped his 
leather sample case on the back of the bicycle with 
elaborate care and set off, arriving at the police 
station by way of the narrow back streets of the 
town. The inquest on the body of the 44 tramp ” was 
timed to take place at ten o’clock that morning, and 
he found already in the little courthouse a sprink¬ 
ling of those members of the public who made a 
point of never missing any sensation that might be 
flung at them by those kind gods who cater for 
the streak of morbidity in human nature. These 
were, however, few to-day — a mere tramp having 
little interest for all but the most case-hardened. 
The details were simple enough and presently he 
wheeled his bicycle out again and went on his way, 
soberly. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


53 


A verdict of “ Death from cause unknown ” 
had been returned, but the coroner had added a 
rider to the effect that it had probably been due to 
66 fall during a fainting attack, and the striking of 
his head against a seat or form in the railway 
waiting-room at Fal Vale.” 

Morrison was thankful for that verdict. It was 
undesirable to arouse any further suspicion at the 
moment as to the queer happenings of the little 
place; and if the story of the ghostly train crossed 
the minds of readers of the next day’s local papers 
in connection with the three-lined paragraph record¬ 
ing the unimportant event — well, probably such a 
suspicion would only cause the superstitious Cor¬ 
nish folk to give the place a wider berth than ever. 

He pedalled the ten miles industriously away, 
but not too industriously to prevent his mind busily 
going over the various items in the job, on which 
he had to base his calculations. 

Item one — and the biggest and most important 
clue of all — was, of course, the presence of the 
girl with the grey eyes he had seen in Cologne, the 
girl who had so cleverly eluded him there, and who, 
impossible as it seemed, was here in this remote 
spot of the west country, and identified in some puz¬ 
zling manner, not only with the getting out of the 
way of the policeman and of poor young Heath, 


54 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


but with that gang of jewel thieves he had so bung- 
lingly let slip through his fingers. He could not 
surely be mistaken in the identity of that girl? Even 
through the misty atmosphere of a Cornish sea-fog 
on a late winter’s afternoon, he would have staked 
his life on those eyes being the identical pair that 
had so intrigued his imagination in the Cologne 
studio. No, there could not be two girls with those 
same wistful, half-frightened grey eyes, the colour 
of a dove’s breast. There was something dreamy, 
misty, ethereal, almost psychic about them, in spite 
of their expression of fear, that would have marked 
them out for him from all other eyes, even if some¬ 
thing deeper and stronger, some strange stirring 
in his heart had not told him that there could be but 
one woman like that in all the world. 

The question was, what on earth had she really 
to do with the gang? and what possible connection 
could there be between the Oppenhaupt diamonds 
and this Cornish legend of a phantom train that ran 
through an obscure country station, and that no one 
saw and lived afterwards to tell the tale? 

If indeed, there was any connection, was it not 
at least possible that her presence (if there were 
not such another girl in the world and after all it 
was a case of mistaken identity) in the neighbour¬ 
hood was a matter of pure coincidence? 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


55 


64 There’s no such thing as coincidence, my 
boy,” he could almost hear the Chiefs wise voice 
talking in his ear, 44 only cause and effect. That’s 
the first rule you young fellers have got to get into 
your heads; and don’t you ever forget it.” That 
being so, he must assume her guilty of complicity 
at least, in the game, whatever it was. Yes; and her 
anxiety to avoid him, her first escape and her 
second incredible disappearance in the mist on the 
cliff road, all tended to confirm these suspicions. 

It was possible that she was the key to items 
two and three: the untimely end of Police Con¬ 
stable Davies and young Heath within a few days of 
each other. That was the stark fact he hated but 
must face. The other pieces of the puzzle — the 
newly-worked quarry in the hillside overlooking the 
sea; Superintendent Fuller’s careless remark that 
there seemed to be very little business being done 
up there (a remark which had, nevertheless, sown 
the seeds of an idea in Morrison’s mind), the ghost 
train itself, seemed to have little enough connection 
with the theft of the jewels on the face of it. 

One fact seemed to emerge from his cogitations 
as he passed the station of Fal Vale lying twenty 
yards back from the white road he was following, 
and that was the grim one that he must somehow 
get hold of that girl, and that, whatever his private 


56 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


feeling on the matter might be, and however much 
his inclinations might run counter to his duty, he 
must immediately place her under arrest as a sus¬ 
pect. There was always the excuse of her pos¬ 
sible connection with the remainder of the haul of 
diamonds, some of which had been captured in 
Cologne. 

Besides, D’Alvarez and Herr Otto Schnitz were 
still at large; and he had to fathom her place in 
their particular scheme of things. 

A solitary fisherman examining the caulking of 
a small upturned boat on the pebbles below the 
sea-wall attracted his attention. He dismounted, 
leaving the bicycle propped against the rough stone 
wall, dropped over it and crossed the shingle to the 
fisherman’s side. 

The fisherman stared up at the sound of foot¬ 
steps crushing on the stones, obviously surprised 
at the advent of a stranger. Indeed, Morrison might 
have been an apparition, judging by the startled 
look in the man’s eyes as he halted at his side and 
addressed him in a friendly fashion. 

“ Good day. What are the weather indications, 
I wonder?” He glanced up at the palely clouded 
sky as he spoke. 

“ Eh?” The fisherman placed a hand behind 
his ear indicating deafness. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 57 

“ Will it rain, do you think?” shouted Morri¬ 
son. 

66 Rain? Eh, that I can’t tell ’ee, sir. What wi’ 
they wireless machines and meteorological chaps, 
the weather’s been that mucked up nobody can’t 
make no proper foretellin’s in these days.” 

He shook his head dubiously and went on 
examining the seams of the upturned boat, running 
a horny forefinger along the joints. 

“ Have a cigarette,” said Morrison, proffering 
his case. 66 Lonely spot, this.” 

“ Ay, we don’t see many strangers here. What 
might you be doing, sir, in these parts?” 

66 Oh, I’m travelling for a firm, though I’m 
bound to say I don’t see much prospect of doing 
business here. Any shops? Any boats come in?” 
He pointed to the stone jetty a hundred yards ahead. 
The fisherman regarded him suspiciously. 

“ Bain’t been no boats call here in my knowl¬ 
edge for a matter o’ eight years or more,” he 
announced. “Not since the clay-boats did go sailing 
up the river there from the quarries.” He pointed 
to the river mouth that emptied its waters into the 
sea a quarter of a mile farther down the coast; and 
shaking his head dubiously went on with his 
inspection. 

“ You don’t use your little pier, then?” 


58 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


“ No, sir.” The fisherman turned his back with 
such determination to end the questioning of the 
inquisitive stranger that Morrison shrugged, and 
with a little smile abandoned further attempts at 
polite conversation. These Cornish people were 
undoubtedly highly suspicious by nature; they gave 
very little away. 

He strolled along the grey sea aimlessly for a 
few moments, then, whistling to himself, ascended 
the beach and swung himself over the wall again 
into the white road, walking his bicycle until he 
came to the jetty, along which he went. When he 
came to the end of it that jutted out into the sea, he 
stopped in surprise. 

On the rough cobbled surface there were foot¬ 
marks in white clay — not the single footmarks 
of a solitary pedestrian such as one might have 
expected to see in such a place, but clay trodden and 
ground into the interstices of the stones as with the 
trampling of boots, marked freshly with the imprint 
of feet, as though men from the quarries above had 
recently loaded a boat from that jetty. 

And yet the fisherman had denied the exist¬ 
ence of shipping there — just as the station-master 
had denied the existence of houses! Were the whole 
of the inhabitants in league? And what sinister 
secret was it they wished to keep? 


CHAPTER VII 


Ruminating on this fresh discovery, Morrison 
turned his bicycle and walked slowly back the length 
of the jetty, his apparently careless glance to right 
and left searching for further clues. The water 
lapped with innocent heartiness on either side of 
him against the heavy granite stones forming the 
small landing-stage, and stretched away and away 
till the horizon itself melted in the uniformly lower- 
ing hue of the skies. 

Superintendent Fuller had given him to under¬ 
stand that there was no working being done in the 
Silverton quarries, and the general impression he 
had got from enquiries had been that the Fal Vale 
pits had ceased to yield. But here had been a boat 
that had obviously been loaded from the region of 
those pits. Where did they send that clay, and why 
the secrecy about its destination? 

He turned onto the road and began the ascent of 
the cliff walk, thinking vigorously. The next step, 
he decided, was the inspection of those deserted 
workings — and specially of the Silverton quarry. 
He wondered if Jackson would be able to get down 
soon; wondered if the Chief had had anything at the 
59 


60 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


back of his mind in sending him (or in falling in so 
readily with his own suggestion to come, which was 
tantamount to the same thing), to this out-of-the- 
way spot. The Chief was an adept at subconscious 
suggestion with his staff; he played his game like a 
chess-problem, and only one of his own brain calibre 
could foretell — from that trivial move of the pawn 
— just at what point checkmate would be made. 

The sharply ascending road along the cliff pres¬ 
ently took him, still wheeling the bicycle, to a spot 
where he judged his examination ought to begin. 
On the sea side the ground dropped steeply, in some 
places almost perpendicularly, to the rocky shore 
below; on the other it mounted against the sky, its 
face scarred and mutilated here and there with the 
wounds of the old quarries which had been, however, 
partly hidden by the encroaching growth of kindly 
weeds and scrubby bushes. 

There was not a soul in sight, a rapid glance 
right and left, up and down the road assured 
him. Leaving his machine against the cliff side, he 
wheeled suddenly through the opening in the wall 
across which the board bearing the name of the 
Silverway Clay Works stretched, and after a few 
moments found himself in one of those large semi¬ 
circular openings so familiar in quarrying countries. 
There seemed to be nothing to differentiate it from 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


61 


half a dozen other such quarries; and inspection 
proved that beyond the fact that one or two rusty, 
V-shaped iron carriers stood on the little branch 
railway-line, which had obviously served these quar¬ 
ries in days past, it was as deserted as the others 
appeared to be. 

An uncanny quietness enveloped the place; it 
was like a thing dead, and only the wild screaming 
of gulls quarrelling over a decaying fish on the shore 
below and the distant sound of the water breaking 
on the rocky coast disturbed the silence. There was 
no human creature to hinder the most complete 
examination of the place, and Morrison made it lei¬ 
surely. Obviously there had been workmen about 
recently, for he found the ground trodden hard in 
places here and there, where apparently there had 
been a desultory sort of quarrying going on, which 
bore traces, however, more of experimental than of 
actual working. 

He left the place an hour later, more puzzled than 
ever. Nothing in the Silverway quarries had yielded 
him any of the evidence he was seeking; he had 
merely satisfied himself as to the correctness of 
Superintendent Fuller’s remarks. He was about to 
retrace his steps towards the road when something 
prompted him to turn and continue his way along a 
ledge that wound round from one side of the quarry, 


62 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


seemingly formed by the discarded stones and rub¬ 
bish dug out from it; and he presently found himself 
standing on the edge. But instead of the sheer hill 
rising before him as he had expected, he was looking 
down into a sort of concealed crater round the bend 
of the quarry. It was then that he made the discovery. 

Below him, nestling among a thick growth of tall 
trees, now bare except for a few dismal remnants of 
leaves hanging dryly upon the stiff branches, and 
completely hidden in the hollow behind the quarry, 
was a house. 

It appeared to be uninhabited. No smoke 
ascended from the chimneys — the ground sur¬ 
rounding it was a tangled mass of neglected vege¬ 
tation, brown and withered, bearing no trace of 
man’s subordination; and he could see no means 
of approach. Creeping carefully along the ridge, 
however, he presently made out that a steeply 
descending road from the inland side of the hills 
wound its way down among more trees. In summer 
the house must, he concluded, be completely hidden 
from view, at any rate on this side, by the dense 
growth. 

This mysterious house, than which nothing more 
desolate could have been imagined, instantly con¬ 
nected itself in Morrison’s mind with the disappear¬ 
ance of the girl. Yet that girl, he as instantly remem- 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


63 


bered, had vanished from his sight considerably 
higher up the hill and on the other side of the cliff 
road. 

A little thing like that was not likely to quench 
the excitement the discovery of the hidden house 
had caused in the detective’s breast, however. There 
was probably a connecting link somewhere and it 
was his business to find the missing piece of the 
chain. The ridge ended abruptly in a tangled copse 
on the hillside; there was no possibility of descent in 
that direction. He crept back, keeping himself care¬ 
fully out of sight below the top of the ridge for fear 
of prying eyes; not that there was much likelihood 
of his being seen, unless there had been a look-out 
in the roof. From his coign of vantage all he himself 
could see of the house were the roof and the chim¬ 
neys and a gable or two in grey stone; an old house, 
it looked, and uninhabited, probably the haunt of 
nothing more interesting than bats and spiders. But, 
if so, where had that girl gone to? 

Walking carelessly through the great vault of the 
quarry again, Morrison came out on the road and 
continued his way up to the top of the cliff. The 
road wound along, he found, for several miles at 
the cliff edge, with the sea gleaming faintly in the 
November light, far, far below. Then it took an 
abrupt turn inland and seemed to zigzag endlessly 


64 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


on ahead. Before he had gone very much farther, 
he wished he had brought the bicycle. 

The result of his investigations, after hours of 
tramping that zigzag road which so annoyingly 
wound back on itself and back again in the irre¬ 
sponsible manner of old British tracks, was that he 
located what he inferred to be the mouth of the lane 
leading back and down, he judged, a couple of miles 
at right angles from the main road, into the heart of 
the hill towards the deserted house; but so choked 
and overgrown with hanging branches and withered 
weeds that there appeared to be scarcely room for 
a small car to penetrate its fastnesses. 

One thing seemed certain; for whatever purpose 
the old house had originally been used — probably 
it had been a pleasure resort before clay or tin mines 
had been located on that hill — its present occupi¬ 
ers, if any, seemed scarcely in the habit of welcom¬ 
ing strangers. 

Teddie paused for several minutes outside the 
repellent-looking entrance to the lane, turning over 
in his mind the effect his stumbling upon the house 
might be likely to have on his quest. His impulse 
was to make a further and immediate search of the 
lane itself. Who knew what those forbidding depths 
might have to unfold for him? With such queer 
places in the neighbourhood, his thoughts went on, it 


THE GHOST TRAIN 65 

was no wonder legends of ghosts and what not were 
rife about the district. 

Further consideration decided him to defer 
exploration till a future date and stick to his origi¬ 
nal plan of trying to find out how the girl with the 
grey eyes had made her getaway on the cliff road. 
After all, the lane wouldn’t vanish in a night, and 
he had some considerable distance to travel before 
he reached the neighbourhood of the Silverway 
quarry again. And it would be dusk in an hour. 

He paused a second longer to take in with quick 
glances such signs and symbols as would enable him 
to identify the place again, then turned and made 
his way back down the zigzag road. 

The afternoon’s work elated him considerably. 
He felt that some of the threads in that elusive skein 
of intrigue and crime he was trying to unravel were 
at length in his hands. Here at least was something 
concrete on which to base supposition or imagina¬ 
tion ; whether the mysteriously placed house and the 
overgrown lane had anything to do with the matter 
in hand or not was for him to find out. 

He felt eager for Jackson’s arrival! If Jackson 
were here he could be keeping a watch on the place 
while Morrison explored the other side of the road, 
the side where that girl had so suddenly evaporated, 
as it were, into the mist of the Cornish sea. 


66 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


But half an hour’s zealous search between a point 
above the quarry and a generous distance beyond, 
somewhat daunted the detective’s enthusiasm. The 
cliff seemed to drop almost sheerly under a clothing 
of rough gorse and vegetation, and he could see no 
track of any description by which a human being 
could have descended to the shore. His inclination 
was to abandon the probing of the place until to¬ 
morrow, and to rest for the moment on the spurs of 
the day. 

“ You’re bewitched, my boy, or on the wrong 
track altogether,” he told himself exasperatedly. 
Then some advice of the Chief’s recalled itself to his 
mind. “ Suspect everything and never give up a 
clue till you’ve followed it to the bitter end,” and 
another of his axioms — 66 When in doubt, sit down 
and smoke on it.” 

The last advice seemed to him pretty sound 
under the circumstances; he decided to eat a sand¬ 
wich, have a pipe and then continue his search, so 
he squatted on the cliff edge and pulled out his sand¬ 
wich case. 

Ten minutes later, pipe drawing well, soothed 
by the rest and the tobacco and the contemplation 
of the grey sky and sea blending together in one 
harmonious calm, the far-away shriek of an engine 
whistle caught his ear, and presently he saw a train 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


67 


winding out of the station and disappearing inland. 
It was the afternoon train from Truro, he ascer¬ 
tained by a glance at his watch. A further ten 
minutes passed and then a figure was discernible 
climbing the hill towards him; and after another 
short period of time he made out the figure to be 
that of Jackson. Morrison jumped up and went 
forward to meet him. 

66 The very person I was wanting, and wanting 
badly, Jackson,” he cried in a pleased voice. “ I 
suppose Fuller told you I was likely to be here? 
Any news — any message from the Chief? Barlow 
done anything?” 

66 Nothing that I’ve heard of. He crossed over 
to try and pick up the trail of the Schnitz crowd in 
Germany, but there’s nothing to report as yet. 
Didn’t expect there would be,” Jackson volunteered 
laconically. He was very loyal to Captain Morrison. 

Teddie heaved a sigh of relief. 

“ Well, there isn’t much news here either. This 
is as far as I’ve got up to now.” And he briefly 
related the circumstances. 

Jackson pulled at his long moustache medita¬ 
tively as he listened. 

66 You seem to have got hold of a particularly 
elusive young lady, sir.” 

66 The whole point is that I haven t got hold of 


68 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


her, Jackson. Feel like a ten-mile walk? Right-oh! 
Now, I suggest that you follow that road round to 
where it meets the main Truro road, which it must 
do a mile or so beyond the lane, and make a note 
of the position, while I do a little more search-work 
here as long as the daylight lasts. I’ve got the bicy¬ 
cle, so I’ll ride back. We can’t do much more to-day. 
Any bright ideas you may get on the way we’ll talk 
over when we meet at the hotel this evening. I’m 
jolly glad you’ve come, old lad.” Teddie slapped 
the other’s shoulder affectionately. Jackson beamed. 

In truth, the advent of anyone so solid and 
reliable as Jackson in this mist-enshrouded atmos¬ 
phere had given him a fresh stimulus to work, and 
as soon as the burly form of his assistant had van¬ 
ished round the bend in the road he redoubled his 
efforts, going back again and again to the spot from 
which he had seen the girl vanish, re-acting the little 
episode of his pursuit of her and finally determin¬ 
ing by carefully comparing the time it took to walk 
the distance, that a gorse-covered patch of ground 
among loose stones on the hillside must have been 
the scene of her evaporation. Certainly she could 
not have scaled the cliff wall opposite, which was, 
just here, well-nigh perpendicular; and equally she 
must have possessed the feet of a mountain deer if 
she had made her way down to the sea! 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


69 


He swung his legs over the cliff edge. They 
landed on a ledge which gave fairly secure footing, 
though the stones rolled under his feet and went 
scattering down the cliff face in an unpleasantly 
suggestive fashion. Steadying himself with a grip 
of the hands on the ragged branches of gorse at the 
top, he felt his way along. And then, all at once, the 
ground gave way beneath his feet, and he was jerked 
violently downwards through a black and narrow 
space. 


CHAPTER VIII 


Surprisingly, the violent descent did not dis¬ 
locate every bone in his body, though it was several 
minutes before the detective recovered from the 
shock of his fall. When he did so, and his stunned 
brain had more or less returned to normality, he 
found the reason. He was sitting huddled on a 
small wooden platform, just big enough to take one 
person, on which he had descended to the bottom of 
a rough shaft cut in the cliff-side. Obviously he had 
stumbled on the entrance to what appeared to be an 
underground tunnel. Peering about him, in the 
semi-darkness, he saw the chimney-like shaft rising 
above him with a glint of pale sky topping it; he had 
shot down it on the primitive lift into what to all 
appearances was an old smuggling cave. 

But when he tried to crawl out of the small 
aperture the lift-shaft ended in, a sharp pain shot 
up his left leg, and he found himself unable to 
stand on it. He desisted effort in that direction for 
a moment while he took stock of the situation. Here 
he was, caught with a hurt limb in the middle of 
an underground tunnel, at one end of which he 
could discern the rocky beach and hear the faint 
70 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


71 


rushing sound of the sea — fortunately at low tide. 
The other, as far as the blocked and dim light per¬ 
mitted him to detect it, seemed to be a mass of under¬ 
growth. Remembering his smoked glasses, he felt 
about on the floor and, luckily, recovered them 
unbroken. Then, dizzily, he dragged himself to a 
standing position, and tried the hurt foot again, 
finding it useless for the moment, at any rate, and 
extremely painful. The situation, however, was too 
critical a one to admit of any delay in action. The 
sea was out, certainly, but he did not know the tides, 
it might be coming in, and certain small pools which 
glinted between the interstices of the pebbly floor 
showed him that the water in full tide rose high 
enough to enter some distance into the cave. There 
was nothing for it but to make an exit through the 
other end and trust to luck. 

He felt his way cautiously along with the help 
of the tunnel wall, drawing the injured foot after 
him. It was an unpleasant process, and the antici¬ 
pation of what he might find at the end of the cave 
was not exactly cheering. He might have fallen into 
a deliberate trap! The leg might be broken for all 
he knew; certainly it felt as though it would, at 
least temporarily, put an end to his activities, and 
he heartily cursed his ill-luck at the mishap. Just 
on the very eve of this interesting discovery, too! 


72 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Reaching the cave mouth he found it curtained 
with trailing streamers of creeping plants, which 
effectually covered it and yet were quite easily 
parted. He drew himself through and looked about 
him. 

Not ten yards away rose the walls of the house 
he had seen from the cliff top; an old, roughly built 
house of stone which indeed appeared to have been 
partly quarried out of the hillside itself, so closely 
it nestled under the side of the pit. A neglected path 
bordered by evergreen shrubs led up to it; the whole 
place, wedged down in the hollow of the hill, looked 
deserted, forgotten, half-unreal in the falling dark¬ 
ness, with the pale walls of the quarry towering 
ghostly above and behind it, shutting out what fad¬ 
ing light there remained. A place to shrink from 
even in broad daylight. 

There could be no shrinking now, however; 
whatever his physical disability — and he was a 
bit dubious about the extent of his injury — Teddie 
Morrison knew that he must go forwards at all costs. 

He approached the house carefully through the 
shrub-bordered path, dragging himself along by the 
help of the branches, every nerve alert. Halfway 
along he suddenly stopped, startled into stillness. 

It was a low whimpering that reached his ears, 
a sound uncanny in the extreme, coming as it did at 


73 


THE GHOST T&AIN 

that moment. Amid the weird stillness of the place 
it echoed hollow-like and dismal, a noise like that 
of a child or an animal being tortured. 

He stood stock-still for a second, then, com¬ 
pletely unaware at that moment of the pain in his 
foot, limped towards the house. 

He found himself against a blank wall in which 
was neither door nor window except a small one 
covered by a grating near the ground, which 
appeared to give light to a semi-underground cham¬ 
ber or cellar. Stooping down and peering into the 
dim recesses, he made out a room lighted by a small 
lamp standing on a table in the middle of the room, 
the flame being partly obscured by the figure of a 
man whose back interposed between it and the 
watcher at the window. 

Something sinister about that window, he 
thought; something sinister about the way the sod¬ 
den ivy crowded jealously around it, as if in an 
endeavour to keep out what little light of day could 
ever penetrate to the place. Sinister, the figure bend¬ 
ing motionless over the table; and still more so the 
wailing that smote on his ears again, a shuddering 
horror of sound that for a second froze him through 
and through, rendering him incapable of thought or 
action. 

The next, he had gathered, his wits about him. 


74 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


By luck, or the good guidance of his particular 
guardian angel, he had stumbled on some mystery 
that needed urgent explanation, far divorced though 
it might be from his actual quest. Something ter¬ 
rible and cruel must be going on in that under¬ 
ground chamber. But what? He dragged himself 
along the blank wall, turned the comer, reached the 
front of the building and, flinging himself against 
a closed door to which was neither knocker nor 
bell, beat upon its wooden panels with his fists. 

Silence. Only the echoing of the blows down 
what might be empty corridors. 

Morrison drew back, angry and baffled, and 
stared about him. A wide circular sweep of weedy 
gravel fronted the house, but ahead of that, what had 
once been a garden had now degenerated into a 
mere wilderness, penetrated by a narrow roadway 
that must be the one to lead up on to the cliff road. 
The quarry sides rose vast and sheer above him. 
The strange house was actually built into the bottom 
of a pit; the sky was scarcely discernible except 
here and there between the bare branches of the 
trees that, like the ivy-clung window, everywhere 
strangled the light of day. 

Annoyed and impatient at the pain that was tug¬ 
ging at his leg again, Morrison stopped craning 
his neck and was turning back to make a further 


THE GHOST TRAIN 75 

assault on the door, when it was opened suddenly, 
and an old man stood on the threshold. 

His thin white hair and beard blew about a frail 
white face in the draught of the doorway. Beneath 
the domed forehead a pair of wide-open eyes, in¬ 
credibly bright and innocent, stared out; and within 
their depths Morrison perceived the unmistakable 
light of fanaticism. The figure was thin and frail in 
the extreme, and the hands, long, white, knotted old 
hands, twisted themselves together nervously. The 
old man was shabbily dressed, he seemed to be shiv¬ 
ering with cold; but when he spoke his voice was 
gentle and cultured. 

66 You knocked?” he remarked politely. 

Morrison smiled. He would hardly have called 
his thunderous assault by so mild a name. 

66 Yes, I knocked. The fact is I chanced upon 
an old lift-shaft — as I suppose it to be — in the 
cliff edge and had a nasty fall, wrenching my foot. 
I wondered if you would allow me to come in and 
rest it a little?” 

The old man shot one startled glance towards 
the overgrown lane ahead as if he expected some¬ 
one to appear from that direction, and another 
behind him into the darkness of the house’s interior. 

66 We do not have visitors here,” he said in a 
hurried whisper. 46 We do not welcome them. They 


76 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


interfere with our researches.” Again he glanced 
over his shoulder. 

66 1 promise you I won’t do that.” Morrison saw 
that the old man must be humoured like a child if 
he was to achieve his object, and at all costs he 
must obtain a footing in the house. 66 1 thought if I 
might rest this confounded leg for an hour, I should 
be able to find my way back. As it is — ugh!” 

He suddenly sat down on the threshold, partly 
in real and partly in pretended inability to continue 
longer in a standing position. 66 I’m afraid,” he 
apologised, “ it’s broken-” 

66 Broken! Oh dear, I hope not.” The old man 
hovered over him in alarm, thrusting his fingers 
through and through his thin wisp of beard. “ Per¬ 
haps you had better come in and sit down — though 
we never have visitors,” he repeated agitatedly. 
64 We live completely out of the world, busy with 
our researches, researches which will, nevertheless, 
revolutionize the whole of civilization. But — let 
me help you to rise.” 

He had no more strength than a kitten, but Mor¬ 
rison allowed the strange old man to think he was 
aiding him to his feet; and a moment later, the 
old fellow’s arm through his, he found himself 
within the walls of the mysterious house, and being 
escorted through a dark passageway to a room 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


77 


which he perceived at once was on the opposite 
side of the house to the cellar-like apartment into 
which he had gazed. 

To his surprise, the room he now entered was 
almost a cheerful one. There was no fire on the 
hearth, but an oil stove with a red glass face sent out 
a grateful warmth and lightened the gloom of the 
place to a surprising extent. There were chintz cov¬ 
ers on the chairs, and curtains to the window beneath 
which a round table with a polished surface held a 
bowl of late chrysanthemums. In its simple way the 
room exhibited a certain amount of tasteful, quiet 
furnishing. 

66 Be seated,” the old man was saying, 64 and rest 
your foot. I hope the damage is not so extensive as 
you fear. You are the first within many years to 
have come across that old mining lift-shaft,” he 
went on garrulously. 44 It was, I believe, worked by 
a pulley that regulated its speed, and I can quite 
understand that you made a violent descent if you 
failed to use it properly. Tradition has it that in 
the days when the coast was a network of smug¬ 
glers’ caves, some enterprising member of a gang 
evolved it as a ready means of eluding unwelcome 
intruders. It is never used nowadays, of course, and 
probably the pulleys are rusted or rotten. It should 
be securely covered.” 


78 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


He began to move restlessly about the room, 
twisting his thin hands together. Once or twice he 
approached the door, then wandered back again, 
with an anxious eye on Morrison. 

66 You want to get back to your work, sir,” the 
latter encouraged. 66 Don’t let me detain you. If I 
may sit here a little-” 

44 I hardly like to leave you,” the old man 

returned eagerly, 66 but-” he eyed the other 

dubiously and Morrison felt he was mouthing the 
phrase again, 44 We don’t encourage visitors here.” 
44 Scientific research is a hard taskmaster,” he went 
on aloud. 44 A very hard taskmaster. It brooks no 
neglect. You have heard of my work, doubtless 
—the work of Professor John Price, the Egypt¬ 
ologist?” 

Morrison hadn’t, but 44 The world rings with 
your fame, sir, and I am proud to meet you ” he 
lied, with an assumed sincerity that made the old 
fellow’s eyes gleam with a mad brilliance. 

44 Ah! I am coming into my own then, at last! I 
had not heard! I live so far out of the track of men. 
Before very long there will be fresh evidence of my 
powers given to the world!” He added in a whisper, 
reflectively, as if to himself: 44 If wheat, why not 
drugs?” 

Convinced in his own mind that the old fellow 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


79 


was obsessed with some idea to the very point of 
insanity, Morrison could only reiterate in bewilder¬ 
ment: 64 Wheat? Drugs?” 

The old man went to the window and pulled 
aside the curtain. 

44 Look! — No, you needn’t move from your 
chair, you can see without getting up, the light is 
still good enough. Look at that little square patch 
of stubble in the middle of the garden. I planted 
them as far away from the trees as possible, in a 
little clearing I made — there, do you see?” 

Morrison looked in the direction indicated. 

44 That,” resumed the old man triumphantly, 
44 was, this summer, a small field of wheat planted 
from grain found in the tomb of one of the kings of 
Egypt, a monarch who was dead and buried two 
thousand years before the birth of Christ. Now do 
you see my point?” 

Completely at a loss, the detective, neverthe¬ 
less, nodded his head in agreement. He could not 
imagine what his strange host was getting at, yet it 
was only by encouraging him to talk that he might 
stumble on some glimmer of truth in the queer web 
that seemed to be weaving itself ever closer about 
him. Whether it had any bearing on the matter in 
hand seemed more than doubtful. But the old man 
was speaking: 


80 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


64 Imagine it! The wonder of those seeds still 
holding within themselves the germ of life, after — 
two — thousand — years!” 

He dropped the curtain, turned back to the room, 
and approached the other’s side, stealthily, bending 
over him as if to impart some precious secret. 

44 In the same sarcophagus,” he whispered in 
Morrison’s ear, 44 1 discovered a sealed phial that, 
on analysis, proved to contain a virulent poison in 
the form of powder. I said to myself, 4 If those 
grains could spring into life after all that time, why 
might not the drug still hold its vital properties?’ ” 
Remembering the dreadful sound of a being in 
agony that he had heard outside the barred window, 
Morrison felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. 

44 4 Might it not be that we are on the verge of a 
discovery that may revolutionize the whole theory 
of death by violence?’ I said to myself. And it is to 
that end I have worked and worked, night and day, 

seeking, analysing, experimenting-” 

For the life of him Morrison could not help an 
involuntary shrinking away from the gloating eyes 
of the scientist, that were fastened on his with such 
an intensity of fanaticism. Quick to perceive the 
movement, the old man bent closer, whispering 
eagerly: 

44 Ah, you fail to understand me. All I do is for 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


81 


the benefit of mankind. My researches have led 
me to an invention that will supersede poison gas. 
I have discovered a secret that would rid the world 
of England’s enemies within twenty-four hours (or 
render them impotent for a time, depending on the 
strength of the drug); all based on the formula of 
a milligram of powder found in the coffin of a long 
dead king. I claim,” his voice rose to a cracked 
vibrance, “ to have made the most important scien¬ 
tific discovery of any age since the Pharaohs! My 
experiments are almost complete—even now-” 

Suddenly he ceased — the fiery gleam faded 
from his eyes, they became cloudy and troubled, 
and, for a second, he looked at Morrison as though 
he had that moment become aware of his presence. 
Gazing fearfully about him, and fumbling his old 
hands together in a manner somehow pitiful, the 
old man cried in a trembling, worried voice: 

66 But I forgot — we do not encourage visitors 
— I have been talking too much. Now I must go.” 

He hurried away, opened the door, closed it 
gently behind him, and the detective, listening 
intently, heard the sound of his steps feebly and 
slowly descending what seemed to be stone stairs, 
and then dying away into silence. 

Amazement, mingled with disappointment, were 
the chief feelings in the young detective’s breast as 



82 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


he took stock of his surroundings. He had appar¬ 
ently come by a series of chances upon a harmless 
madman whose brain had been turned by delvings 
into the remote past, and who lived hermit-wise in 
this isolated and (to any healthy-minded being) 
rather terrifying spot in order to indulge his passion 
for research; who hid himself away from the dis¬ 
turbing influences of life in nineteen hundred and 
twenty-six to devote himself to the mankind of two 
thousand years B.C. 

Was he, after all, on a completely false scent 

— or was all this merely a distinctly odourous her¬ 
ring drawn across the trail? 

He weighed the pros and cons. Supposing he 
were all wrong and had to smell around to pick up an 
entirely fresh set of clues, where the dickens was he 
to begin? And how was he to get out of this hole 

— for he was in a hole, literally as well as figura¬ 
tively— with his foot hurting abominably and 
beginning to feel three times too large for his boot, 
and night coming on, miles away from anywhere 
and with no hope of assistance? 

On the other hand, supposing (the thought 
flashed at him) the old man’s interest in poisons 
had anything to do with the deaths of Heath and 
P. C. Davies? That might well be — but were they 
merely the objects of his experimentalising or was 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


83 


there anything more behind it? And what bearing 
had the story of the phantom train on the whole 
affair? 

Above all, what light could the presence in the 
vicinity of the girl with the dove-grey eyes shed on 
the mystery? And where had she disappeared to, 
if not down that dismal lift-shaft? It could be prop¬ 
erly manipulated, the old fellow had said- But 

she wasn’t here and the scientist hadn’t mentioned 
her. 

His seeking eyes came to rest on the corner of a 
small table nearby (the room was now lighted solely 
by the red glow from the stove, for the daylight 
had almost completely faded) and on the table he 
caught sight of a small white object. Limping across 
the room he took it in his hand. 

It was a reel of white cotton, the needle still 
holding its thread stuck into the label-covered hole 
in the top; and by its side reposed a little silver 
thimble. 



CHAPTER IX 


The detective stood with the little thimble in 
his hand, thinking deeply and twisting it about in 
the steady red light from the oil-stove. 

Whoever it belonged to was an industrious little 
person, for it showed signs of wear and was even 
pierced with a tiny hole or two here and there in its 
ornamental surface. A reel of cotton with a needle 
stuck in it might have formed part of a bachelor’s 
equipment, though hardly, perhaps, such fine cotton 

— number fifty, he noted — and such a small 
needle. When the male sex was obliged by force of 
circilmstance to sew on its buttons, it usually did 
so with coarse linen thread and a darning needle. 
But allowing the cotton, that thimble could never 
have been used by male hands. Why, it wasn’t big 
enough to cover the tip of his little finger! He tried 
it. It perched ridiculously on the very top. 

It was the first piece of direct evidence, Morri¬ 
son considered slowly, he had run up against. There 
suddenly came across his mind a sentence the girl 
with the grey eyes had spoken in the Cologne studio 

— 46 Father thinks I’m working at a dressmaker’s.” 

He was seized with a strange excitement. The 

84 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


85 


natural optimism of his character invariably came 
uppermost the moment it was given half a chance; 
and now the chance was a whole one. His profes¬ 
sional instinct could not be at fault (and instinct 
plays a considerable part in the unravelling of mys¬ 
teries) ; he felt convinced that he held in his hands 
something belonging to the girl with the eyes of 
misty grey. 

If so, it meant he had “ traced ” a suspicious 
character to her lair. From that, more, much more, 
would follow. He was sanguine enough to believe 
that either his own perspicacity or the luck that some¬ 
times aids good detectives as well as babes and 
drunkards, would result in 46 something big.” Per¬ 
haps he might even put Barlow, in whom the Chief 
had so much faith, in the shade, and reinstate him¬ 
self in his own and the Chief’s eyes. After that, 
who was there to stop his rapid ascent of the lad¬ 
der? Certainly not Barlow! 

But even as the rosy dream unfolded itself 
before his eyes, Teddie Morrison the man asserted 
himself over Captain Edward Gascoigne Morrison, 
M. C.; D. S. 0., late of His Majesty’s Fusiliers and 
now of the Secret Service. Whatever he did to help 
himself up that ladder would be at the expense and 
to the detriment of the girl with the grey eyes. And 
most emphatically he didn’t want to hurt that girl! 


86 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


The little thimble in his hand was making him 
feel deuced sentimental. Somehow it seemed a part 
of her. She had used it; with its help sewn all sorts 
of things for her own slender body to wear; perhaps 
through those tiny holes in its sides, she had pricked 
her finger and it had bled. Perhaps there was even 
a little speck of her very blood on it now! There 
must be something distinctly uncanny, something 
psychic about the thing, looking silly perched on 
the top of his little finger; for at that moment, 
Teddie Morrison the man felt he would cheerfully 
have seen every rung of the ladder of fame smashed 
to splinters, or Barlow grinning at him from the top 
of it, if he could have clasped the little hand that 
thimble fitted just once within his own. Then he 
pulled himself erect again. Ass! Filling his mind 
with sentimental tosh when so much was at stake! 

64 Well anyhow,” he excused himself, 44 I’m not 
here in my professional capacity at all! I’m on a 
holiday — well, perhaps not quite — I did get the 
Chief to let me have Jackson-” 

No, there was no loop-hole that way. Grimly he 
realised he must go through with the thing. It would 
never do to let the Chief and Jackson down for the 
sake of his own foolish feelings for a girl with grey 
eyes most suspiciously mixed up with a gang of 
international thieves. 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


87 


44 It doesn’t do to have feelings where women 
are concerned,” the Chief had remarked a little 
drily at their last interview. Even then, he had 
wanted to make excuses for her! He began to feel 
panicky and uncertain about himself; and put the 
thimble resolutely down on the table. As a clue it 
was invaluable — as an 44 exhibit ” useless — there 
was no object in appropriating it, none whatever. 
Nevertheless, he picked it up again, and dropped it 
back in his pocket. He tried to dissect the situation. 

There he was, mooning about and getting senti¬ 
mental over a thimble — a thimble of all things! — 
when he was probably on the eve of what looked 
like important discoveries. 

Of course, the thimble might belong to another 
girl altogether. The old fellow might be a harmless 
fanatic, as he appeared; or there might exist some 
deep-laid scheme of which he was an integral part. 
Poisons now — it sounded suspicious. 

And the queer old house, exactly the place 
where something mysterious might be expected to 
happen! Exactly the place that might be chosen on 
account of its inaccessibility and remoteness for the 
hatching of nefarious plots. But again, the old stu¬ 
dent and scientist might equally have selected it 
for the undisturbed pursuit of his own mad dreams, 
from the very same reasons. 


88 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 Never reject a possible clue till you have 
followed it to the bitter end — and sometimes 
beyond.” That was a wise saw of the wise Chief’s. 
Well, he must follow all this to the end — and 
beyond. 

But there was this confounded foot of his; and 
the necessity of communicating with Jackson. He 
must keep Jackson informed of his whereabouts, 
but it would be very undesirable for still another 
stranger to be seen mooning about the neighbour¬ 
hood. There was no telephone in the room, that 
much he could ascertain by the dim light of the oil- 
stove. He opened the door cautiously and peered 
out into the dark corridor. The house was in com¬ 
plete silence. 

Apparently the old professor had forgotten the 
existence of the uninvited and unwanted guest with 
the hurt foot. Somewhere in the obscurity of that 
unknown and mysterious place — down in the 
room with the barred window — he was no doubt 
immersed in his studies, deaf and blind to all else. 
Morrison pulled the door partly to behind him, 
pausing a moment to make certain that the darkness 
held no unseen foe; then he drew his electric torch 
from his pocket and flashed it around him. 

A long bare corridor stretched on either hand; 
at the one end was the door that he had entered by 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


89 


from the garden; at the other, the nearer end, a 
short flight of stairs mounted. He moved cautiously 
towards it, helping himself along by the wall, for 
his injured foot was useless to him now. 

The stairs, like the corridor, were bare of cov¬ 
ering; but at the top he was surprised to find his 
footsteps suddenly muffled by a thick carpet. Out¬ 
side the first door he came to he paused again to 
listen intently, then opened it, an inch or two. All 
was dark and quiet, within as without. He entered. 

The room was a large one, and as he flashed his 
torch back and forth, he saw it was beautifully, 
even luxuriously appointed. He gazed around him 
in astonishment; the contrast to the rest of the 
place was so extreme, as yard by yard he examined 
it by the light thrown from his torch. Persian rugs 
on the floor, splendid hangings on the walls, fine 
old pieces of furniture here and there; but, as with 
the simple apartment on the floor below, the heating 
was, queerly enough in these days, supplied by oil- 
stoves, now unburning, and the lighting by oil 
lamps on the centre table and bookshelves. 

The faintly pungent scent of stale cigar smoke 
hung about tenaciously; but the place had the cold 
feel of a room that had not been used for many 
days. 

Yet, curiously, the long windows were draped 


90 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


with heavy damask curtains, purplish-red in hue, 
drawn over them. But was it curious? If the apart¬ 
ment had been bereft of inhabitants for some time, 
the curtains might carelessly have been left cover¬ 
ing the windows. Or some one might have entered 
recently to pull them, though if so the slight office 
must have been done well before the daylight 
faded; and one would suppose in a forsaken room 
that it would not have been necessary. Or perhaps 
for some reason undeclared—as yet—those heavy 
draperies were designed expressly to keep out from 
the light of day and from possible prying eyes 
something done in that room. 

Morrison went to one of the windows, clicked 
off his torch and pulled the curtains an inch or two. 

Below, the garden lay enshrouded in the falling 
night, dank beneath the wintry branches of the 
trees, and in the centre was the clearer space of 
stubble the old man had shown him from the room 
below. It all looked innocent, rather sad, forsaken. 
The other window, in the wall at right angles, gave, 
by some curious depression in the immediate fore¬ 
ground of the cliff, a glimpse of the sea away off, 
with — Morrison peered through the gathering 
gloom to make sure of it — the end of the little jetty 
sticking out into the water like a crooked finger. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 91 

He dropped the curtain back into place, frown¬ 
ing, busy with thought. 

A room leading from this spacious apartment 
was, he discovered, used as an office. The blind 
was drawn to the window as in the large room. 
There was a large desk, but it was tidy and empty 
of papers; each drawer was securely locked. Noth¬ 
ing gave any clue to the business enacted there. But 
— there was a telephone upon it. 

Without further delay, Morrison lifted up the 
receiver and pronounced the number of the Truro 
Hotel. 

“ That the 6 Black Sheep ’? I want to speak to 
Mr. Jackson if he’s about.” 

“ Which Mr. Jackson, sir?” came the voice of 
the desk clerk. 

“ J. T. Jackson — Jackson of the Milko Patent 
Food Company. Ask him to come to the ’phone, 
please.” 

The darkness and the uncanny silence of the 
place had begun to get on Morrison’s nerves a little 
before he heard the welcome voice of his assistant 
at the other end of the wire; his brain seemed 
numbed of thought for a moment and he felt his 
forehead break out into drops of sweat. Then came 
Jackson’s slow, rumbling tones: 

“ Hullo! Speaking?” 


92 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 It’s Morrison.” The detective spoke in low, 
urgent tones, as loudly as he dared, while he con¬ 
centrated all the quickness of brain of which he 
was capable on delivering a message Jackson 
would understand, but which would leave a listener- 
in completely in the dark, as to the conversation 
being other than that of two commercial travellers 
exchanging news. 44 How go things?” 

44 Oh, nothing to grumble at here.” 

44 A bit low in the world with me." His brain was 
running at express speed now. (Would Jackson 
understand? He dared not elucidate the matter of 
his whereabouts more clearly.) 44 On the track of 
a thing or two, but rather uncertain. I say, Jackson, 
if I don’t come back to-night, I may be away a few 
days. Meet you somewhere in this direction soon, 
I hope. Keep your eyes open for new business, old 
chap, but don’t let’s overlap, there’s not enough 
room.” He ended with a nervous laugh. Would 
Jackson know from that he wanted him handy, but 
that he must keep himself as much out of sight as 
possible? He held his breath waiting for the reply. 

He heard Jackson’s sonorous tones after a mere 
second’s hesitation: 

44 True. I'll be down in your neighbourhood 
about this time, one of these days, perhaps to-mor- 

99 


row. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


93 


“ Good.” Morrison heaved a sigh of relief. 
66 You might bring me a bottle of Sloan’s Liniment, 
by the way; I had a bit of a tumble and hurt my 
ankle,” he added casually. 44 Oh, nothing serious. 
Au ’voir, old chap.” 

Fumbling in the dark for the hook of the 
receiver with one hand, Teddie wiped the beads of 
perspiration from his forehead with the other. 

Colossal good luck, the coming across that tele¬ 
phone — and no less the fact of Jackson’s presence 
at the hotel thus early. He must evidently have got 
hold of some means of locomotion other than shank’s 
pony to help him back to the town. Yes, to have 
established connection with Jackson at this juncture 
might mean everything to him. 

He made his way out of the little office and 
through the big room again to the corridor outside. 
The pain in his foot had increased; he felt a bit 
dizzy, and he decided with a grimace that he must 
perforce leave further investigation of the house 
for the nonce, though other doors opening right and 
left — bedrooms he assumed — invited attention. 
However, sufficient unto the day. Even that hurt 
foot might prove a blessing in disguise; it would 
excuse his presence in the house and give him time 
for a thorough search of the place. He descended 
the stairs, slowly and with difficulty. 


94 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


At the foot of the flight he paused. From some¬ 
where below there came again, faintly, but sicken- 
ingly distinct, that awful sound as of an animal in 
extreme agony. An animal, or a child — or per¬ 
haps— 

Like lightning the thought struck into his brain, 
like the stroke of a knife — perhaps, a girl! Where 
was she, the owner of that little thimble, if not in 
the torture chamber of the mad Egyptologist — 
who, at that very moment was experimenting in 
poisons — and why had he, Morrison, been so blind 
as to ignore the obvious? Something incredibly hor¬ 
rible might at that instant be happening to her. 

For the fraction of a second the thought para¬ 
lysed him, as he stood with tight lips wet with the 
dew of mingled fear and pain, clinging to the rail 
of the bannister at the stair-foot. Then he began to 
hobble along the corridor towards the front door 
with all the speed he could make. And a second 
ago he had been actually congratulating himself 
that he could turn his disability to account, and 

now — suppose he were too late — suppose-! 

Another little sound, a nearer one, caused him to 
stop and crouch against the wall. It was the noise of 
a key turning in the lock. 




CHAPTER X 


From the slight suffusion of light that threw 
a feeble beam across the bare boards of the corri¬ 
dor, Morrison realised that the open door of the 
sitting-room was only a few feet away. He had left 
that door a little ajar, he remembered. Now he 
threw himself towards it, jerked swiftly through 
and fell into a chair just inside and almost behind 
the door, waiting in breathless expectation for the 
next move in the game. But even in his excitement 
he realised that the wailing from below had ceased. 

He had not long to wait. The front door opened, 
closed again, and a second later a figure came into 
the room. 

She was wearing the same grey cloak he had 
seen her in on the cliff-walk that day; but even 
without that, Morrison would have recognised her 
instantly. Recognised the wide-open, startled eyes 
of misty grey, like the feathers of a dove, the pale 
sweet face with its expression as of one interrupted 
in an anxious dream, but now less anxious, less 
fearful, as he saw her in the full warm glow from 
the stove. She came in as if expecting to see some 
95 


96 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


one there, the old man perhaps. She glanced round 
and not seeing him, but a stranger in his place, 
raised her hand involuntarily to her lips and gave 
an alarmed cry. 

He rose awkwardly, clinging to the table for 
support, and addressed her: 

66 I’m afraid I’ve frightened you. I hurt my 
foot by a fall and found myself at the door of this 

house, and was most hospitably received by-” 

he hesitated. 

66 My father?” 

64 Perhaps — by Professor Price.” 

64 Yes. There is no one else here — just now,” 
she volunteered, and added constrainedly, and as 
though she were repeating a lesson — 44 1 am afraid 
we see so few visitors that we do not --” 

“Encourage them?” he finished the sentence for 
her with a smile. 44 So I understood. I am the more 
grateful for his — your kindness.” 

The girl was looking at him with puckered 
brows. He felt thankful he still retained the dark 
glasses and the small black moustache; but even so, 
he had an odd feeling that beneath those transparent 
disguises she was puzzled by some dim remem¬ 
brance, vaguely beset by a recollection that dis¬ 
turbed her. The very last thing he wanted at this 
juncture was that anything should remind her of 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


97 


that meeting in the Cologne studio. He must do all 
in his power to dissociate himself from any fleet¬ 
ing memory of that meeting, and he said hastily: 

66 1 ought to introduce myself. My name is Gas¬ 
coigne — Teddie Gascoigne — and I’m travelling 
for a firm, Patent Foods. My present headquarters 
is Truro, and I’ve been hoping to get a few orders 
from the villages round about. But I fell down a 
queer hole in the cliff and landed, as you see, here.” 

64 Oh! The old lift-shaft. And you have hurt 
your foot,” she seemed reassured. 44 1 was forget¬ 
ting. I will get a light.” 

She found matches on the mantelpiece, but 
before applying a light to the oil lamp standing on 
the table, she crossed the room to the window and 
drew the curtains. It struck Teddie as a little odd, 
this reversal of the usual order of things. 

44 Now let me see.” 

She was on her knees before him and he felt the 
soft pressure of her little hands about his ankle. It 
was delicious, that gentle manipulative movement, 
even though the slightest touch hurt like the dickens. 
To see her on her knees before him, so sweetly min¬ 
istering, was almost more than he could stand. 

44 I’m afraid it is dreadfully swollen. We may 
have to cut away the boot. Wait, I have scissors, 
here-” 



98 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 Not so bad as all that, I hope.” He made light 
of it. 64 I’ll have a shot at getting it off first.” 

He succeeded in dragging off that boot with 
considerable pain and trouble and the help she 
insisted on giving in spite of his protestations. For 
the moment all other thoughts were driven out of 
his mind — the reason for his being in that strange 
house — the old man doing his gruesome work, 
whatever it was, in the cellar below — the very 
relief that had flooded over him when he had found 
his fears for her safety unrealised. 

66 You had better put that foot up on the sofa 
here,” she said with tender practicality. 66 Give me 
your arm and I will help you to it. There, that’s 
better. Now stay there till I get a compress of 
sorts.” 

She went quickly out of the room and closed 
the door after her, picking up the grey cloak from 
the chair where she had dropped it and carrying it 
away with her. A few minutes later she returned, 
bringing a bowl of water and some old linen hand¬ 
kerchiefs; and, in spite of his protests on the score 
of the trouble he was giving, she insisted on wrap¬ 
ping the swollen ankle about with the cold band¬ 
ages, replacing them every few minutes. 

The way she had taken charge of the situation 
was a new experience for Morrison, himself accus- 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


99 


tomed to manage events; and the deftness of her 
woman’s touch as she worked without fuss to allevi¬ 
ate his injury, was balm both to flesh and soul. 

66 You’re kindness itself,” he tried to express 
his gratitude. “ But I don’t think it’s worth all the 
trouble you’re going to.” 

66 1 don’t know,” she returned. “ I think you’ve 
bruised and strained it rather badly, though I don’t 
believe any bones are broken. You have been using 
it when you oughtn’t, that’s the whole bother. Now, 
will you promise not to move from that sofa till I 
come back?” She looked down at him with a sweet 
severity and added, 66 1 usually go for a stroll in 
the afternoon and my father will wonder what has 
happened if I seem to be back later than usual. 
Besides, there’s tea.” 

46 You are here alone with your father?” he ven¬ 
tured. Somehow those few moments of solitude 
with her seemed rare and precious to Morrison and 
he wanted to prolong them as much as possible. The 
question had been asked more at random than with 
any real desire for information, but the moment 
the words were out of his mouth he saw by the 
expression on her face that they had disturbed her. 
The startled look returned to her grey eyes and he 
forced his thoughts back to the real point at issue, 
instantly on the alert once more. 


100 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 We are alone — at present,” she answered 
reluctantly, pausing on her way to the door. 

Those rooms above, with the oddly luxurious 
furnishings, returned to his mind with sudden 
clarity. 

66 Not always then?” he pursued casually. 

66 No — not always.” She scanned his face 
anxiously, and went on, as if something she saw 
there had dragged the unwilling information out of 
her. 66 Mr. Silverton and his brother stay here for 
a few days every month.” 

In the little pause that followed, while Morrison 
was groping in his mind to find the true significance 
of this statement of hers, the girl went quietly out 
of the room again. 

Morrison remained on his sofa frowning into 
the red glow of the stove. Those few words had 
aroused all his temporarily sleeping suspicions 
afresh. The Silvertons owned the almost deserted 
clay quarries. Those jewels he had tracked down in 
Cologne had been hidden in soft clay, and the girl 
had been the medium of their conveyance. Once 
again, the possible connection smote him; and once 
again he rejected it as being too utterly fantastic. 

Obviously there was a very important link in 
the chain of circumstances missing. It was too ridic¬ 
ulous to imagine it necessary to work a whole clay- 


THE GHOST TRAIN 101 

mine in order to supply sufficient to wrap up a few 
diamonds! 

There was nothing for it but to go slowly ahead, 
taking each step of the way as he came to it and 
scanning it in the light of all that had already been 
■ revealed. And in any case, where did the mad old 
scientist who experimented in Egyptian poisons and 
made a hobby of growing wheat from seed found in 
the tomb of two-thousand-year-old Pharaohs come 
into it all? Had Heath been killed by poison? 
That was a matter, at any rate, verifiable: some¬ 
thing which they were able to make sure of by medi¬ 
cal testimony. 

Yet, ten minutes later, when the girl came back 
into the room followed by the scientist himself, even 
with the agonised cries he had heard issuing from 
that underground cellar still fresh in his memory, 
he found it impossible to associate the innocent blue 
eyes of the old fellow and his air of polite and 
gentle abstraction, with the horrible idea of mur¬ 
der, and murder carried out deliberately and cold¬ 
bloodedly, as it must needs have been. The thin 
white locks and frail hands, his emaciated body and 
timid air, struck Morrison afresh, in strange con¬ 
trast to the gruesome task from which, even now, 
he had tom himself, and of which he had unasham¬ 
edly spoken to a complete stranger. Still less could 


102 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


he credit that the girl of the misty grey eyes could 
be willingly connected, even remotely, with such 
happenings. They looked more like a couple of 
rather lonely children than criminals! 

She set down the tray she was carrying and pre¬ 
pared herself to the business of dispensing tea, her 
small hands moving in the homely task with a grace 
that fascinated Morrison. Circumventing his quick 
motion to rise from the couch, she handed him a 
cup. 

66 No, don’t get up. That would spoil all the 
good we were trying to do to that foot of yours. My 
father and I insist that you should stay here, at 
least for to-night, if-” she flushed a little dif¬ 

fidently, as if conscious of the poorness of the pro¬ 
posed hospitality, 66 if you can sleep on that couch. 
Indeed, there’s nothing else to be done. We are a 
long way from the station and you could never 
walk it, with your foot swollen like that.” 

Morrison was about to protest when the old 
gentleman broke in with his singularly gentle air 
of courtesy: 

“ It is the least thing we can do, to offer shelter 
and a bed to an injured man. Pray accept them 
with our apologies that they are not more comfort¬ 
able.” 

Teddie’s first instinct was an unconditional 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


103 


refusal. He had been deliberately trying to lead up 
to this; yet he was conscious of a feeling of extreme 
meanness. It was like taking advantage of the 
trustfulness of children to accept their hospitality, 
to have planned in his mind to accept it, in order 
that he might ferret out their secrets and possibly 
reward them by betrayal. Yet, there was Heath — 
there was his duty to the Chief and his chosen pro¬ 
fession; he mustn’t be soft; he must wrestle with 
that encroaching sense of weakness occasioned, 
inconsequently enough, under the circumstances, 
by the grey eyes and the tender hands of that min¬ 
istering girl. He steeled himself deliberately to 
murmur his thanks: 

66 It’s more than good of you, and I’m tremen¬ 
dously grateful — if you are sure I shan’t be tres¬ 
passing -” 

44 Not a bit,” the girl responded lightly. 64 You 
will really be doing us a kindness-” 

She broke off. The old man looked troubled. 

66 You live in a very remote place,” Morrison 
filled in the rather awkward pause conversationally. 
66 Don’t you find it lonely on occasions? Or do you 
only spend a few weeks here now and then — like 
Mr. Silverton?” He helped himself to bread and 
butter. 44 You go abroad perhaps?” • 

He could feel the panic in the silence following 




104 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


the question and see it in the startled glance she 
threw at him; a quick, penetrative glance that 
seemed to make his dark glasses and moustache 
look particularly silly as a disguise. For an instant 
he felt certain she had recognised him and that he 
had made an irretrievable blunder in trying to force 
her hand. The old man had apparently noticed 
nothing. And then, a soft scratching and whim¬ 
pering at the door relieved the tension. She sprang 
up and opened it. A small Scotch terrier came in, 
walked dejectedly and with apparent difficulty to 
the stove and lay down in the glow of it, shivering. 

44 It’s Nelly Bligh,” the girl said, watching the 
little dog’s slow progress across the floor in some 
anxiety. 44 She doesn’t look well, Father.” She 
picked up the animal and caressed it on her lap. 
The little dog looked up with pitiful eyes, then 
attempted to lick her hand with a feeble tongue. 
This action seemed to galvanize the old man into 
life. He leaped up and seized Nelly Bligh from the 
girl’s knees. 

44 Don’t let her lick your hand, Julia,” he qua¬ 
vered excitedly, hugging the little dog to his breast 
as if to keep her as far as possible from contact 
with his daughter. Julia stared up at him in rebuk¬ 
ing amazement. 

44 But why, Father?” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


105 


66 She’s not been very well, Julia. She’s been 
ill. I think — ” the professor mumbled over his 
words, 66 — she has eaten something that disagreed 
with her. There, lie by the fire, Nelly, good dog.” 
He put her down gently and patted her rough 
little head; she remained where he had placed her 
without protest or movement. 

Morrison now felt certain that the cries he had 
heard had emanated from Julia’s little dog, on 
whom the professor had been experimenting with 
his Egyptian poisons. But the professor would 
hardly confine his experimenting to animals. There 
would come a time when the effects would have to 
be tried on human beings, if indeed, as seemed 
possible, examples had not already been made. 
Who, he wondered, would be the next victim of his 
researches? Who more likely than some one 
placed by inadvertence in the old man’s power? 

He looked apprehensively at the bent head of 
the girl, Julia, who was gazing with commiseration 
at the dog stretched before the fire. Shivers ran 
every now and then through Nelly Bligh’s unfor¬ 
tunate little frame. The old professor remained 
stooping forward and staring down at her too, but 
in a different fashion. ^ 

There was something peculiarly nauseating in 
the cold, detached way in which he was observing 


106 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


her. He saw the girl raise her head and look fixedly 
at her father, as if the dawn of a suspicion had 
entered her mind, saw the growing horror in her 
eyes as if her suspicion had been transmuted into a 
certainty. No wonder she had the eyes of a fright¬ 
ened dove! 

Morrison felt a cold shiver course inch by inch 
down his spine. 


CHAPTER XI 


He had much to occupy his thoughts that night, 
as he lay on the improvised bed Julia Price had 
made up for him on the couch in the sitting-room, 
clad in a worn suit of the old professor’s pyjamas. 
She and her father had retired early, soon after the 
simple supper she had prepared had been disposed 
of and the visitor’s room had been arranged. Lis¬ 
tening intently as the door closed behind them — 
she had put Nelly Bligh, the sick Scotch terrier, in 
a basket and, palely determined, carried her off with 
her in spite of her father’s eager warnings — Teddy 
felt sure that the two had not ascended the stairs. 
The doors he heard open and shut were along the 
same corridor as the one in which his own 46 bed¬ 
room ” was situated. He must have heard their 
footsteps on the uncarpeted stairs if they had gone 
up. The upstairs rooms, he gathered from that fact, 
were occupied by the Silverton brothers. 

Uppermost in his mind was the strange and 
thrilling thought of his presence under the very same 
roof as the grey-eyed girl who, in spite of every¬ 
thing, had so seized on his imagination the moment 
107 


108 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


he first saw her in that Cologne studio. What queer 
chance was it that had brought them across each 
other’s paths again, and at this, their third meeting, 
consigned them to a night — perhaps several nights 
and several days — in proximity to each other? 
What, indeed? No chance, but the grim pursuit of 
the destroyer of his best friend, Heath. 

The stark fact was, that where the stolen Oppen- 
haupt diamonds had been found, there was the girl 

— where Heath had met his death, there she was 
also. Over and over his mind turned the thing, 
seeking this way and that for a solution, but always 
it came back to the grim truth that nothing could 
alter. Against it, he had only his own convictions, 
his own desire to believe her innocent, his own — 
yes, he admitted it — his own love for her. Love, 
for a girl who was perhaps a thief, perhaps some¬ 
thing worse! It was a wry joke indeed, that Fate saw 
fit to play upon him. 

Visualising, in the darkness of the strange room 
in the uncanny quiet — and surely down in that 
hollow of the hills was the quietest place on earth 

— her beauty, the softness of those magical grey 
eyes of hers, the tenderness of her touch to his 
injured foot, her gentle movements, her care for her 
father, her concern for the wretched little dog; his 
mind rebelled against belief in her guilt. It was 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


109 


beyond all reason! He held fast to that look of hor¬ 
ror in her eyes, when the reluctant suspicion that 
the professor had been tampering with her pet dog 
had evidently crossed her mind. She might not be a 
party to those experiments. There was no reason, 
indeed, why she should be. But what was she doing 
in that house? What was there to prevent her going 
from it, leaving it and the whole mystery behind 
her if she were not in some definite way mixed up 
with it? There was something at the back of all 
this yet unfathomed. He was fighting an unknown 
foe, something intangible as a cloud, or as the Corn¬ 
ish mist that came so unexpectedly and obscured 
everything so bafflingly. But now, since he realised 
his love for Julia, the task before him was a doubly 
difficult one. He had to avenge the death of his 
friend and at the same time to clear the character 
of Julia Price. 

The more he thought about it, the more certain 
he felt that she was not in league with the old man 
in his research. Such a girl could have no interest 
in the production of a poison that would wipe out 
England’s enemies wholesale! The more certain he 
was of that, the more eager he felt to put his theory 
of the poisoning of Heath to the test. If he had come 
by his death that way, he would know that Julia was 
exonerated, and that Heath had been the unfortu- 


110 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


nate medium for experiment by the mad professor, 
and by him alone. 

But there had been the constable too — P. C. 
Davies, who had been found on the hillside with his 
head broken in, several days before the “ tramp’s ” 
death. 

At the time Davies died, the girl had been in 
Cologne. The two deaths within so short a time of 
each other might have been coincidence, of course; 
or they might be a definite link in the iron chain of 
crime and deceit he was trying to break. 

The morning light was struggling through the 
chintz curtains when he fell asleep at length. 
Scarcely an hour later he woke to see the girl 
depositing a tray on a small table she had brought 
close to the couch the night before. He had barely 
time to don his dark glasses before she turned to 
face him. 

44 Breakfast,” she said cheerily. 64 It’s nearly 
nine. Is the foot hurting you?” 

He sat up. 46 Thanks awfully. You shouldn’t 
have troubled. I could quite well have come to the 
breakfast table.” 

44 Oh, we breakfasted an hour ago.” She pulled 
back the curtains, applied a match to the stove and 
went about putting the room skilfully to rights. 
44 My father likes to get to his work as soon as there’s 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


111 


enough daylight, now that the days are so short.” 

That reminded him of the little dog. 

44 How’s Nelly Bligh this morning?” 

46 She doesn’t seem very well.” The girl shot 
an anxiously guarded look at him under her dark 
lashes. 46 She won’t take her milk, poor little thing. 
Are you sure you have everything you want?” 

44 Everything, thanks immensely. You have 
some one to help you — you don’t do it all your¬ 
self?” He waved his cup vaguely round the room. 
She smiled. 

44 A woman comes up from the village every day 
to do the rough work. She will be late to-day.” 

44 The village! A deuce of a way for a woman 
to come, isn’t it?” 

44 Oh, not very far.” She looked at him again, 
hesitatingly, as if trying to make up her mind 
whether it would be discreet to trust him with even 
such trivial confidences. Not apparently being 
completely sure, she added nothing to her vague 
statement, but with the remark, 44 1 hope you won’t 
move till I have looked at that foot,” went out again. 

Morrison cogitated on the woman from the vil¬ 
lage as he ate his breakfast. The servants in a house 
were often most helpful and a few gleams of hope 
certainly lay in the direction of this one being able 
(and willing) to shed light on the affair. Some one 


112 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


fresh on the scene would give new impetus to 
thought, anyhow. 

Being a bachelor of tidy habits, by the time the 
girl returned he had risen from the couch, donned 
a threadbare old dressing gown of the professor’s 
which she had placed near him, and folded his 
blankets and sheets into a neat pile on the sofa, thus 
restoring to the room a certain amount of its accus¬ 
tomed neatness. To his disgust, he found these small 
matters were only attended to by dint of considerable 
difficulty, for his foot was swollen almost out of 
recognition and extremely painful. 

66 1 warned you,” she said gently, while she 
bathed and bound the offending member after 
anointing it with some pungent-smelling ointment. 
“ You can’t possibly use that foot.” 

66 But I must use it,” Teddie cried exasperatedly. 
“ I’m not going to let the darned thing get the better 
of me like that. What about my — business? Be¬ 
sides, I can’t possibly foist myself on you indefi¬ 
nitely like this.” 

66 Mr. Gascoigne,” she said simply, 64 that foot 
won’t be fit to be used for days, perhaps weeks. Of 
course, you could get a car to come from Truro and 
take you there, if you really insisted; but I think 
you would be much wiser not to disturb it at least 
for a couple of days. It would be asking for trouble 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


113 


to stand on it at all. I — my father and I — would 
be pleased if you would stay; and I really can look 
after you quite nicely, you know.” 

“ I am certain of that,” Teddie returned with 
conviction. 

“ Is your business so very urgent that no one 
else can do it for you?” she demanded with a 
whimsical smile. 

“ I am afraid it is. But I think I can do a certain 
amount of it here.” There was a grimness about the 
remark which he hoped was not detected by Julia. 
66 Thanks, and ever thanks.” 

64 I’ll bring you hot water and father’s shaving 
tackle,” she told him, and flitted away again. 66 Now 
keep your foot up, please.” 

She was one of those delightful women, he 
thought with a wave of gratitude, who are never 
so happy as when they are ministering to some one 
needing their help. In truth, the prospect of days 
spent with her in that isolated place — strange and 
uncanny and steeped in he knew not what of the 
sinister, as it was — glowed through him like a 
warm ray of sunshine. That injured foot was noth¬ 
ing short of a godsend from whatever point of view 
he regarded it. It both kept him near Julia and gave 
him all the excuse he wanted for remaining in the 


114 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


mysterious house till he had thoroughly investigated 
it. His star was certainly in the ascendent. 

No newspapers appearing, Morrison dozed on 
his couch off and on during the morning, while Julia 
in a blue-grey linen smock and a pair of old gloves 
was busy with her household duties in other parts 
of the house. The old man did not appear, neither 
did Nelly Bligh, the Scotch terrier. Once during 
the morning that symbolical mist swooped down on 
them, and leaned against the windows, blotting out 
the entire universe and leaving only the silent house 
and its inhabitants stranded in a world of their 
own. Intriguingly sweet, that queer moment of iso¬ 
lation, for it happened on one of Julia’s fleeting 
visits, and they two seemed alone in the whole wide 
earth; sweet, and devoid of the ugly problems that 
crowded about the clear day, but transitory- 

At lunch-time the table was set by a strange 
woman who gave him one glance and then proceeded 
with her duties, having obviously been informed of 
his presence. He recognised her immediately — the 
red-faced woman who had been disinclined to serve 
tramps in the little shop near the jetty, and from 
whom he had bought acid-drops, having fortunately 
failed to interest her in Patent Foods. That the 
recognition was mutual he ascertained from a loud 
whisper outside the door. 66 It’s the very same 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


115 


gen’elman, miss, who came into my shop yester¬ 
day — a travelling gen’elman selling Post-Toasties 

or such like-” and he mentally both blessed and 

cursed because it would probably put the girl on the 
qui vive as to his obvious interest in the neighbour¬ 
hood, an interest sufficient to bring him to the spot 
two days in succession. 

Julia, if she noticed it, made no sign. The old 
man shambled in on her heels, looked at Morrison 
in a puzzled way as if he wondered vaguely why 
his sofa should be occupied by a strange male per¬ 
son reclining in a dressing-gown, and that his own, 
and began to eat without a word. Presently he 
pushed his plate away fretfully, and cried: 66 Where 
is Nelly?” 

The girl put her hand on his arm, as if he were a 
child that must be soothed. 66 She isn’t well, Father. 
I am keeping her warm. She won’t eat anything.” 

66 1 want Nelly,” he cried violently, and banged 
his fist on the table. 66 1 am used to having Nelly 
about, I can’t work without her. I miss her.” 

66 I’ll bring her to you, dear, presently, when 
she is better,” Julia whispered, stroking his arm 
and endeavouring to calm him. 66 Won’t you show 
Mr. Gascoigne some of your beautiful models?” 

64 Gascoigne? Gascoigne?” The old professor 
looked wildly around. 44 Who is Gascoigne? Ah!— 



116 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


my models! Would you like to see my Egyptian 
models, Mr. Gascoigne?” 

His voice was all eagerness; he had forgotten 
Nelly Bligh in the new line of thought Julia had 
inculcated in his brain. 

“ Certainly, sir. Nothing would give me greater 
pleasure,” Morrison replied gravely. 

The old man made as if to rise from the table. 
66 But please finish your lunch first,” Morrison 
begged hastily, and the professor obediently sat 
down again, and despatched the remainder of his 
meal with great speed, his mind obviously running 
on the precious treasures he was about to exhibit. 
Muttering an excuse, he trotted off presently, and 
Julia threw Morrison a helpless look across the 
table. 

66 He is a little nervous and highly strung,” he 
volunteered, to reassure her. 

66 Yes, that is all,” she replied earnestly, leaning 
towards him. 66 Nervous, highly strung. Not mad! 
I can assure you he is not mad, only obsessed by 
these dreadful Egyptian discoveries of his. And 
they encourage him, they make him worse-” 

66 They?-” 

“ All for their own ends-” she cried wildly, 

and stopped. 66 Oh, I ought not to be talking like 
this! If they knew-” 






THE GHOST TRAIN 117 

Morrison stretched a hand across the table and 
covered her own small one with it. 

66 Miss Price, they will never know,” he said 
gently. 64 1 feel you are in some great trouble — 
won’t you trust me, let me try to help you? Tell me 
something about it so that I can try and help you.” 

Julia looked at him for a moment uncertainly, 
waveringly, then, as if she suddenly remembered 
something she had forgotten for a moment and had 
no right to forget, withdrew her hand from his clasp 
and covered her eyes with it. He felt that she was 
making a desperate effort to recover the composure 
that had broken down under some protracted, tre¬ 
mendous strain, and that she could accomplish it 
best if he maintained silence. 

The next moment, the old professor had shuffled 
back into the room, carrying in his arms a number 
of small figures wrapped carefully about with a 
cloth; and the girl had risen from her place and 
was proceeding to pack the china on a tray, quietly 
and composedly as if nothing had happened to dis¬ 
turb her tranquillity. 


CHAPTER XII 


The important event of the day was the possible 
arrival of Jackson, for Morrison devoutly hoped his 
somewhat cryptic telephone message would have the 
effect of bringing his assistant to the house that 
afternoon, for he felt that it was vital to see and 
talk matters over with him before he carried on much 
further. 

He was, accordingly, relieved when the old pro¬ 
fessor ambled off to the resumption of his work, 
having exhibited with pride his collection of Egyp¬ 
tian figures. Morrison was wholeheartedly enthusi¬ 
astic about them. He knew no more of sculpture than 
the ordinary man who makes an occasional per¬ 
functory visit to the British Museum, and these won¬ 
derfully symbolised and conventionalised studies 
in miniature of Egyptian gods, priestesses and kings, 
were almost a revelation to him. 

He could hardly have wormed his way into the 
professor’s confidence, if anything were to be gained 
by that, in a more successful manner than by prais¬ 
ing his beloved collection, and he did it quite sin¬ 
cerely. It was pathetic to see the old man’s childish 
delight in his enthusiasm. 

118 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


119 


But at last he was gone, holding his models to 
his heart as carefully as if they were living beings. 

66 I’m mighty sleepy,” Morrison told Julia with 
a boyish yawn, 66 and if you’re taking your usual 
constitutional I’ll lie here and have a nap. I might 
just as well take full advantage of this opportunity 
to indulge my native laziness, don’t you think?” 

She pulled the rug round his feet, smiling down 
at him. 66 If you are quite sure you’ll be happy? 
I shall be back before tea-time. There is actually 
a glint of sun.” 

“ I should be thoroughly miserable if I thought 
you had curtailed your usual walk on my account, 
Miss Price. Are you taking Nelly Bligh?” 

66 I’m afraid Nelly Bligh isn’t up to the walk, 
poor darling.” She looked anxious, her brows 
puckered into a wistful frown. “ I’m rather wor¬ 
ried as to what to do with her.” 

“ Let me look after her while you are-gone.” 

She hesitated. 46 If you will keep her with 
you-” 

He understood her to mean that she did not want 
the little dog to fall into the professor’s hands again. 

66 She shan’t go out of my sight,” he declared. 

Julia thanked him and brought Nelly’s basket, 
in which the animal lay stretched, and deposited 
it under the curved head of the sofa, well out of 



120 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


sight. Then, with a smile, she went away and, a few 
minutes later he heard the front door close behind 
her. 

That these precautions with regard to poor Nelly 
were justified was apparent not ten minutes after 
Julia’s departure, for suddenly the old scientist 
burst into the room and agitatedly asked the where¬ 
abouts of the dog. 

64 1 like to have her with me,” he cried restlessly, 
twisting his hands. 46 1 miss her when she is not 
there.” 

44 Miss Julia has taken her for a walk,” Mor¬ 
rison fibbed, devoutly hoping Nelly would not make 
her presence known. Then, on a sudden thought, he 
asked directly: 44 Professor, why don’t you choose 
something else for your experiments than your 
daughter’s pet dog?” 

Mr. Price looked blank, then hung his head like 
a child caught in a naughty act. But suddenly he 
raised it again, defiantly. 

44 In the interests of science, sir-” he began 

with a dignified gesture. 

44 Nonsense,” interrupted Morrison genially. 

44 Nonsense? How then, sir, should I make these 
necessary tests which are to lead the way to the 
greatest discovery of all time? What shall I use, if 
not dogs, sir? Human beings?” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


121 


46 Frogs, sir; rats, sir; birds, sir; if you must use 
anything,” Morrison replied with equal seriousness. 
44 Anything, rather than a favourite animal belong¬ 
ing to your daughter.” 

44 But she does not know,” whispered the old 
fellow, looking covertly at Morrison. 44 You won’t 
tell her, will you? It would upset her dreadfully. 
She would never forgive me. You won’t tell her?” 

44 1 won’t, if you will promise me not to repeat 
the experiment.” 

The old man sighed, nodded in acquiescence, 
and, shambling out, turned and looked over his 
shoulder again at his guest’s recumbent figure, in 
such a secretive, covert, crafty way, that Teddie had 
an unpleasant feeling that the old boy had sud¬ 
denly become aware of his eligibility as Nelly’s 
successor. 

The afternoon wore slowly on. He wished Jack- 
son would come. The enforced idleness of the past 
day — he had been chained to that couch for nearly 
twenty-four hours — was beginning to get a little on 
his nerves, for he was essentially a man of action. 
At the same time he realised the wisdom of it. He 
had to get that sprained ankle well. At no very 
distant date he might want all the energy a strong 
man possessed; one never knew in his job. And 
meantime, irksome as it might be, he could not be 


122 THE GHOST TRAIN 

better placed for keeping an eye on the business of 
the moment. 

He had almost given Jackson up, and in the 
darkening quietude had very nearly succumbed to 
the drowsy warmth of the room, when he heard a 
slight tap on the window-pane. So slight a noise, 
indeed, that it might have been made by the scraping 
of a twig against the glass. He swung himself off 
the sofa and hopped to the window. A second later 
he had carefully thrust up the lower sash and was 
peering out. He saw a figure crouching against the 
wall, and leaned over to whisper. 

“ It’s all right, Jackson. In you come. Right-o!” 

Jackson’s burly form hauled itself through the 
frame of the window, and Teddie slid the sash down 
again softly. 

66 Well, here you are, skipper! Glad to see you 
again, sir. Much damage to that leg o’ yours? 
Some one’s been giving you first aid, I see.” 

66 A bit of a twist, Jackson, that’s all. Listen 
— we’ve only a moment, some one may be here 
directly. There are queer things going on in the 
house, Jackson. How queer, I don’t know yet. They 
may mean nothing. They may mean a lot. I intend 
to remain till I’ve found out which — this con¬ 
founded foot is sufficient excuse. Oh, they’re look¬ 
ing after me well, don’t worry. I want you to 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


123 


arrange for a post-mortem examination on the body 
of Mr. Heath. Poison suspected. If anything sus¬ 
picious is discovered, you’d better have Davies 
exhumed and an examination made on him, too. 
Got a bit of paper on you? Here, that’s my recom¬ 
mendation.” 

He scribbled a few lines on a leaf torn from the 
notebook Jackson took from his pocket, signed it 
and handed it back to him. 

64 H’m!” said Jackson, pocketing it. 44 Davies 
had his head beat in and Mr. Heath got a bruise on 
his temple, they say. Just in case you’d forgotten 
it, sir.” 

44 1 hadn’t forgotten it,” returned the detective 

thoughtfully. 44 But look here-” He stooped 

down and dragged forward the basket containing 
the form of the little dog, Nelly Bligh. 44 There’s an 
old man here who’s experimenting in poisons 
and-” 

44 Tried it on the dog,” suggested Jackson help¬ 
fully as he bent forward and stared down at the 
poor dog. 

Even as he spoke, a violent tremor ran over the 
little frame; Nelly gave a deep sigh and stretched 
out stiff. 

46 Well, I never!” ejaculated Morrison’s assist¬ 
ant, goggling. 44 Dyin’ on us, like that!” 




124 THE GHOST TRAIN 

Teddie put a hand down and felt the body of 
the dog. 

“ Yes, I’m afraid she’s dead,” he acquiesced 
after a moment, and added absent-mindedly, “ Poor 
Julia!” 

“ Julia is ’er name? Uncommon name for a 
dog, sir.” 

Teddie gently pushed the basket back under the 
sofa. 

66 Well, that’s one of the old chap’s murders,” he 
said, rather bitterly. 66 It’s just on the cards that 
his experiments have gone farther afield than his 
own household. In fact, I’m half expecting to be 
his next victim myself.” 

66 Now you mustn’t talk like that, sir, you’re just 
down in the mouth, what with that fall and being 
cooped up in this hole.” Jackson’s long grey mous¬ 
tache twitched in a slightly contemptuous fashion. 

66 You had no difficulty in finding me, anyhow,” 
Teddie remarked with a smile. 66 1 want you to keep 
observation over the place, get down here about this 
time as often as possible — I’ll try and arrange that 
the coast is clear for you, but if you don’t see me, 
don’t worry — and report any new events. Other¬ 
wise, keep pretty close to the hotel. There’s a 
telephone upstairs which I could use in case of 
emergency.” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 125 

64 Right, sir — by the way, here’s your lini¬ 
ment.” 

Teddie smiled. 

44 1 wouldn’t dare use it, Jackson. There’s a 
girl here, the old poison fellow’s daughter, who 
wraps me up in cold compresses and things. She’s 
-” he stopped. 

44 Ah!” Jackson smiled too, a thought enigmati¬ 
cally. 44 The lady of the vanishing act, up on the 
cliff, I suppose, sir?” 

44 There’s no action we can take at the moment; 
just watch and wait while I get this darned foot 
better.” Teddie ignored Jackson’s sly remark. 44 Oh, 
there’s one thing — the boots at the hotel-” 

A faint sound of the key turning in a lock 
reached their ears. At a signal from Morrison 
Jackson sprang to the window with surprising agility 
for one of his size, opened it and dropped on the 
soft earth outside without a word, with scarcely a 
sound. Morrison, with equal celerity for a man 
with a sprained and swollen ankle, shut it down 
noiselessly after him, and in one leap was back on 
his sofa with the rug well over his legs before the 
girl came into the room. 

She seated herself on a chair near the stove, 
still in her long grey cloak; she had pulled off her 
hat, and the dark mass of her hair shone in the glow 




126 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


from the fire. Her cheeks were pink from the 
fresh air; she seemed almost to have lost her usual 
air of timid constraint. 

66 Well?” she asked, with a faint welcoming 
smile. 

44 You ought always to wear grey, Miss Price,” 
he remarked, apropos of nothing. 64 It suits the 
place — suits you. You should have a little soft 
hat the same colour as your cloak.” For a moment 
that scene in the room of a German town, a room 
littered with smashed plaster casts and overturned 
furniture, rose vividly before him. 

44 1 had one once,” he was scarcely surprised to 
hear her say, negligently. 

And lost it in a Cologne studio, he thought; and 
wondered what she would have said or done if he 
had voiced the thought — and if she had known 
that the little hat was reposing at that very moment 
in the bottom of his suitcase in the Truro Hotel. 

44 You must have another,” he said aloud. 44 1 
say, let me give you one! When I get back to Truro 
— will you? As a mark of my appreciation of your 
kindness.” 

The girl sat very, very still; and Morrison felt 
suddenly ashamed of this surreptitious baiting to 
which he was subjecting her. He had an uneasy 
feeling that she thoroughly understood his object. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


127 


It was the second time he had done it — the first 
had been when he had suggested that perhaps she 
spent a good deal of her time on the continent to 
avoid the loneliness of this Cornish home. 

66 Thank you,” she said presently in a rather 
lifeless tone. 66 But I may come across the other 
one, though I think I must have lost it somewhere 
abroad. Perhaps in Cologne.” 

Morrison gasped. She had taken his own weapon 
out of his hand to use it against him, whether in 
all innocence or out of sheer cleverness. That answer 
of hers surely meant that she was either completely 
unaware of his connection with the Cologne episode, 
or else that she saw through his disguise and was 
deliberately challenging him to come out into the 
open. 

The time was not ripe for that yet; and though 
the ugly beast Suspicion raised its rampant head 
again, he swiftly decided that he must at least 
superficially ignore the challenge. He must with¬ 
draw the threatened check to the queen — surely it 
was an unwise move at this stage of the game, thus 
early to tempt providence by putting her on her 
guard against him. Why on earth had he said that? 
Looking narrowly at the pale oval of her face in 
the subdued light, he tried to fathom the reason for 
her counter to his move; and was surprised to see the 


128 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


tranquillity of her expression suddenly broken by 
that pitifully habitual gleam of fear that had leapt 
to her eyes. It was as though she had all at once 
become aware that she had again unconsciously 
put her questioner into possession of facts she ought 
not to have disclosed; as though she had been mag¬ 
netised into doing so against her will; as though 
subconsciously her mind had acted under direction 
from his . 


CHAPTER XIII 


To Morrison, there was something very discon¬ 
certing in the revelation that the vivid impression 
he had got of the Cologne studio and his concen¬ 
trated desire to fathom the mystery of this girl, had 
resulted in a practical hypnotism of her into speak¬ 
ing the truth. It was disconcerting because it meant 
that she was the unhappy possessor of one of those 
extremely delicately balanced mentalities that re¬ 
spond, like the string of a violin, to the slightest 
pressure; because, therefore, this doubtful gift was 
capable of being exploited by a ruthless or unscru¬ 
pulous influence to her own detriment. Any power¬ 
ful effort of will directed over her might utilize 
these mediumistic gifts; and where might not that 
lead? Down strange paths, certainly. Her present 
inexplicable situation might be due entirely to some 
sinister influence working on her — but again, for 
what ends? 

If the investigations of the Secret Service as 
exemplified in the personal activities of Captain 
Edward Gascoigne Morrison went no farther than 
the capture of the diamond thieves, in whose hands 
she was a tool, well, the thing seemed plain sailing 
129 


130 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


enough. It would be his duty to arrest this girl, as 
he had so often told himself, and hand her over to 
justice as an accomplice. But what of the tragic 
deaths of his friend Heath and of the constable — 
what of the queer old man who was on the track of 
revolutionising the warfare of the world — what of 
the deserted quarries in the hillside and, above all, 
what of the phantom train that killed whoever was 
so unlucky as to behold it? Then again, there were 
those people of whom she seemed so afraid; pre¬ 
sumably the brothers Silverton who were the occa¬ 
sional occupants of the luxurious upstairs chambers. 

The discovery of Julia’s capability of hypnotism 
put a power in his hands, Morrison felt, that chiv¬ 
alry forbade him to use — chivalry, and the unfor¬ 
tunate love that was fast crystallising in his heart 
for her. And yet, strict adherence to his duty bade 
him devote every weapon at his command to the 
undoing of this extremely knotty skein of intrigue 
and crime. 

All these thoughts passed like lightning through 
the detective’s brain as he watched her sitting so 
quietly before him in the darkening room. She 
looked so childishly forlorn with her dark hair a 
little loosened and falling about her face, with her 
frightened eyes bent full on him, that he made an 
impulsive gesture of sympathy towards her with his 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


131 


hand and laid it for a moment reassuringly on her 
arm, seeking in his mind for something to divert 
her attention from her thoughts. 

“ I ought to have told you before,” he began. 
“ I am afraid poor little-” 

Instantly she divined what he would say. 
“ Nelly Bligh?” She rose from her chair, and 
groped under the couch-head for Nelly’s basket. 
Drawing it out she knelt staring down at the pitiful 
little figure. “ Oh, poor Nelly! She’s — dead?” 

Morrison nodded. 

46 I’m afraid so.” He saw the tears gathering in 
her eyes, and falling one by one on the little furry 
form in the basket. Julia made no attempt to hide 
them; her distress at the untimely end of her pet 
was great, and she seemed, for the moment, to have 
forgotten completely the presence of her injured 
guest, as she knelt on the floor and mourned over the 
dog. 

Presently he could bear it no longer and, acting 
under an irresistible instinct, sitting up on the couch 
he stretched out and put an arm round her shoul¬ 
der, drawing her towards him. She lay against his 
breast unresisting, like an innocent child who weeps 
over a broken toy; and Teddie, though everything 
in him longed to comfort her with endearments, 
could make no attempt to caress her beyond the 



132 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


encircling of her slender body with his arm. At 
that moment anything more would have seemed like 
sacrilege; so innocently she accepted his attempts 
to soothe her. 

Presently she sighed heavily, disengaged her¬ 
self gently from his arm, dried her eyes and stood 
up. 

44 I am sorry to have been so silly,” she said 
mournfully. 66 1 was very fond of Nelly Bligh. She 
was the only thing I had to love, except my father. 
And now he has killed her! How cruel!” She seemed 
lost in reflection of the strange fact that one she 
loved should have been cruel. 

Neither of them heard the door open and the 
old man come in, but he stood there in the lamp-lit 
room beside them, reminding Teddie more than 
ever, with his frail face, his white hair and burning 
eyes, of some ancient prophet of Bible days. He 
felt sorry for the old boy and the fanaticism that 
obsessed him; but Julia turned on him like an aveng¬ 
ing priestess, with an intensity of anger that sur¬ 
prised Teddie as much as the old fellow himself. 

46 You have killed Nelly Bligh!” she accused 
him. 64 You wicked, cruel man! You tortured her 
till she died. How could you? You thought I knew 
nothing of your experiments on my little dog: but 
I knew, I knew all the time and I hate you for what 


THE GHOST TRAIN 133 

you have done!” Then, sobbing, Julia ran quickly 
out of the room. 

The professor turned to Morrison, a look of the 
keenest distress mingled with amazement in his 
eyes. “ You told her!” he whispered. 66 Oh, why did 
you do it?” 

66 1 didn’t. She guessed, as any one would. Mr. 
Price, I’m afraid you have upset your daughter 
badly.” 

66 Yes, I could see that.” The old man considered 
the matter, pulling at his beard agitatedly. 66 1 am 
sorry to have hurt Julia. I have never seen her angry 
before.” 

He looked down at Nelly’s basket that lay 
between them on the floor; and added, in an access 
of anxiety: 66 And all my experimenting has gone 
for nothing! I ought to have watched her, to have 
had her under my observation, seen how the poison 
worked and the time and manner of the death of 
the subject. The lassitude, the heavy sweating, the 
partial paralysis — she should not have died. It 
would have been invaluable. Instead, Julia took 
her for a walk, and I saw nothing. Nothing! What 
a waste! You understand, I did not desire to kill, 

but to temporarily paralyse-Now I shall have to 

begin all over again. These interferences with my 
research are unwarrantable, unwarrantable!” 



134 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


The old professor assumed a pitiful sort of 
offended dignity, quite oblivious of Julia and her 
tears; and Morrison, seeing that all argument was 
useless, forbore speech. 


PART II 




f 


































CHAPTER XIV 


For the next several days affairs in the strange 
house hidden below the quarry in the hillside moved 
tranquilly enough. Morrison found himself still 
unable to use his foot, and Julia insisted on his keep¬ 
ing to the couch in the sitting-room, and upon dress¬ 
ing the injured member every hour or so with cold 
compresses and bandage of areca nut. She equipped 
him with garments from the old professor’s some¬ 
what threadbare wardrobe, brought him his meals, 
and generally waited on him with a graceful ten¬ 
derness that enveloped him still more inevitably. 
Since the death of her little dog she had treated 
the old man with a marked disapproval that he 
seemed to feel deeply. Julia was unable to forgive 
him yet, it seemed; and the old fellow worried over 
it in an absent-minded sort of way, when he thought 
of anything beyond his beloved models and his 
experiments, and grew frailer and whiter and more 
prophet-like every day. 

To Teddie, watching with careful observation 
for any sign that might help him in his quest, they 
seemed like a couple of misguided children at cross¬ 
purposes with each other. 

137 


138 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


One fact puzzled him, and that was Julia’s 
apparent inclination to keep him, Morrison, in the 
house. He was nothing loth as long as circumstances 
made it impossible or difficult to continue his investi¬ 
gations actively; but his sprained foot was improv¬ 
ing daily and soon it would no longer be possible 
for him to make it an excuse for remaining about 
the place. Sterner measures must soon be taken 
to bring the various attributes of the situation into 
line; even now he was beginning to feel a little 
uneasy in his conscience about it all. 

66 Keep ahead of your job,” he seemed to hear 
the Chief’s warning voice. 66 Never let anything 
interfere with it or let it get on top of you. It’ll be 
worse to-morrow.” But he was still unable with any 
comfort to do more than hobble about the room, 
garbed in the old professor’s dressing-gown and 
slippers — the ankle was still too swollen to get a 
boot on — though he was feeling the gradual return 
of that nervous energy which he needed to enable 
him to get on top of his job. But it was more difficult 
to obey the Chief’s dictum to 66 let nothing interfere 
with it.” His duty warred sadly with the delicious 
sense of respite he was indulging in, and with the 
new and intense pleasure it gave him to be near the 
girl with the misty grey eyes. A wonderful inter¬ 
lude in his busy life it was, an interlude for dreams 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


139 


of love; dreams, nevertheless violently overshad¬ 
owed by the dark cloud of suspicion that every now 
and then loomed on the horizon of his thoughts. So 
the days went by till they lengthened into weeks. 

Every afternoon the girl took her solitary walk 
along the cliffs, returning at dusk, while the old 
man was busy in his underground cellar. And Jack- 
son managed to make several visits to his imme¬ 
diate chief during these hours. In one of these 
earlier ones he brought results of the post-mortem 
examination Morrison had advised on Heath’s body. 

46 Not a trace of poison, sir.” 

64 Ah!” Morrison was disturbed and thoughtful. 
44 Another little clue gone west, Jackson. The ex¬ 
amination revealed nothing else likely to cause 
death?” 

44 Nothing, sir. There’s only that bruise on the 
temple.” 

44 Yes. We must leave it at that, I suppose.” 

But Morrison did not like it. It had been within 
the bounds of possibility to fasten the crime onto a 
mad scientist. He had satisfied himself that the ex¬ 
periments the professor was making were done with¬ 
out Julia’s consent, even without his discussion of 
them with her — unless she were the most consum¬ 
mate actress. Whenever he was tempted to believe 
that she was posing, there rose before his eyes the 


140 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


picture of her tearful face as she stooped so commis- 
eratingly over the dead Nelly in her basket. Every¬ 
thing, her care for the animal, for himself, for her 
father, pointed to a tender heart; her coldness to 
the professor showed how deeply he had hurt her 
over the death of a mere animal. Outrageous to 
believe her acting a part; impossible to reconcile 
her behaviour with the deliberate cutting off of a 
human life! Her kindness, her thoughtfulness — 
jno, it was incredible. 

Yet he had to remember, as a factor in the 
case, that at least one of the victims had met his 
death on a lonely road which it was the girl’s habit 
to frequent. Did the old fellow frequent it too? He 
could not recall one occasion on which he had left 
the house during his occupancy of it. 

“ You should take a walk by the sea, professor,” 
he said one day, in real concern for the old fellow’s 
pallid looks, and in an endeavour to kill two birds 
with one stone and put his suspicions to the test. 
66 You are working far too hard.” 

“ The sea?” The old fellow looked as bewil¬ 
dered as if it was the first time he had ever heard of 
the sea. 66 Oh no, I never go out. I haven’t been 
away from the house for years. I am far too much 
occupied with my work. I have no interests outside 


THE GHOST TRAIN 141 

“ But you accompany your daughter sometimes 

— when she goes abroad, for instance?” 

66 Dear me, no. Julia has left me once or twice 
for a short time — I never go away myself. Mrs. 
Barrett looks after me during her absence.” 

There was no mistaking the guilelessness of the 
old man’s reply. Morrison puffed at his cigarette 
in silence. Had Julia deliberately lied to him when 
she said, in Cologne, that she was with her father? 
Her words, he remembered them distinctly, were 

— 66 1 live with my father. We are very poor. He 
thinks I am working at a dressmaker’s.” True, she 
had not said in so many words that her father was 
actually there on the spot, but he had got that impres¬ 
sion . . . she had deliberately given him that impres- 

*sion. All his old suspicions were awake again. 

She was nothing but a common criminal after 
all, and he was merely being duped through the 
lure of her beauty and her personality into some 
trap. He suddenly felt weary and discouraged, and 
very, very bitter. He wanted to get away from this 
damp and mist-infested hole, out into the air of day, 
somewhere where he could have an honest drink and 
a pipe, with Jackson, or the Chief, or somebody 
hardheaded like that; somewhere and with some one 
sane and hearty, and untroubled by these stealthy 
undercurrents of intrigue and deceit that seemed 


142 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


rampant in the very air of this dank, dark mystery 
house of the Cornish cliff. 

When Julia brought the lamp in, and placed it 
on his little table so that he could see comfortably 
to read, it seemed an outrage that her eyes should 
be so frank and pellucid, so innocent, and so beau¬ 
tiful. It was the old, old story of a lovely exterior 
hiding all manner of iniquities beneath it, he thought 
bitterly, and he jibed at himself for ever having 
believed her lovable and good. How easily fooled 
he had been! 

Then once again he railed at his ingratitude in 
believing anything wrong of that girl who had shown 
nothing but the utmost kindness to him, a mere 
stranger and at most an unwelcome one. A moment 
later he cursed himself for being a weak and gullible 
fool, and finally resolved to curb his own inclina¬ 
tions at any cost and to use all the available methods 
for getting at the root of this absurdly complicated 
mystery. 

He threw his cigarette in the hearth, determined 
to put his decision into practice forthwith. 

66 Miss Price, I’ve just been telling the professor 
he ought to take more air and exercise. He’s looking 
a little off colour, don’t you think?” 

“ And I’ve been assuring Mr. Gascoigne that I 
never go out and have not been away from the house 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


143 


for years, Julia. You see,” the old man turned 
with a polite smile to his guest as one who begs 
diffidently to disagree with an opinion, 64 how well 
I have kept in spite of my sedentary life. It suits 
me; I am used to it. It would disturb my work, you 
see, to have to alter my habits.” He threw an anxious 
glance at his daughter, as if appealing for a con¬ 
firmation of this remark. 

The detective deliberately directed his mind to 
concentrate upon Julia’s answer to the question he 
silently enforced upon her. 

The girl replied almost mechanically: 44 Yes, 
that’s quite true — father never goes beyond the 
garden. I wish he would, it would do him good to 
have a change. But you are not feeling ill, father?” 

44 No, no, Julia. It is just a kindly fancy on Mr. 
Gascoigne’s part. It is not tea-time yet, my dear? 
I will just finish something I was doing and return in 
ten minutes,” and he wandered off again followed 
by his daughter. 

Morrison could not determine whether the fleet¬ 
ing glance she threw back at him out of those won¬ 
derful grey eyes of hers was an apprehensive one, 
or whether he was merely allowing his imagination 
to run riot. But the time for speculation about the 
whole affair was fast slipping by, and the need for 
drastic action was upon him. He moved restlessly 


144 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


on his couch: it irked him to remain quiescent, and 
presently he stood up and hobbled about the room. 
The foot was certainly much better, though the swell¬ 
ing had not yet gone: it was mere futile dabbling to 
make it the excuse for further idleness. Neverthe¬ 
less, he hadn’t meant Julia to surprise him up and 
off the sofa to which she had relegated him. 

46 Ought you to be using that foot?” she asked 
him doubtfully, setting down a plate of the bread 
and butter she had been cutting in the kitchen. 44 Is 
it wise yet?” 

66 1 think so, thanks to your splendid nursing, 
Miss Julia,” Morrison answered gratefully. 64 I’m 
afraid the time is fast approaching when my con¬ 
science won’t let me trespass on your kindness any 
longer. I shall have to be making tracks. This jolly 
old foot ought to be convalescent to-morrow.” 

44 Convalescent, but hardly fit for normal duties,” 
she returned with a smile. 44 Take this stick — I 
don’t think you should try it too far for several 
days more yet. In any case, how are you going to 
get back?” 

44 There won’t be much difficulty about that, I’m 
afraid. I suppose I could get a car from Truro.” 

44 It costs a lot,” she reflected. 

He had forgotten for a moment that he was a 


THE GHOST TRAIN 145 

commercial traveller and not overburdened with the 
good things of the world. 

66 I’ll get the firm to stand that. Or perhaps 
there’s a local conveyance? There’s no lack of 
trains if one could get to the station. You have at 
least one more than the time-table mentions, haven’t 
you?” he added. 66 Do have a smoke?” 

The tips of their fingers met for the fraction of 
a second as he held the match to light her cigarette. 
In the fraction of a second, too, her eyelids flickered 
upward to meet his look, then lowered themselves 
again. 

66 What do you mean?” she asked in a con¬ 
strained whisper. 66 Not-” 

64 Surely you don’t believe in that story too?” 
His voice was gently derisive. 44 1 mean the ghost 
train, of course. Some old legend that’s stuck to the 
place, encouraged by the natural superstition of the 
natives? Why, Miss Julia!” 

She had gone very white. 

, 44 Superstition! It isn’t superstition — it’s true!” 
she whispered horrified. 44 Oh, why do you speak 
of it? Why will no one let me forget it?” 

Morrison watched her narrowly under cover of 
half-closed eyes and the cigarette smoke. At least 
she was not acting now — there was no mistaking 



146 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


the sincerity of the terror his talk of the phantom 
train had immediately awakened in her; she was 
white to the lips, and the cigarette trembled in her 
fingers. And, hating himself for torturing her, Mor¬ 
rison hardened his heart to deliberately turn the 
knife in the wound. 

66 What makes you believe in it? Why should 
you let it frighten you like that?” he urged. 

Julia dropped on the sofa and beat the cushions 
with her hand, futilely, staring straight in front of 
her. 

“ Because-” he scarcely heard her whisper, 

and bent over her to catch the words — 66 because 
I’ve seen it!" 

The detective limped across the room, dropped 
his stick and seated himself beside her, seizing her 
little hand between both his own. 

“ Now listen, Julia. Trains don’t run of their 
own accord. They have to be stoked with coal, to 
be kept oiled, some one has to pull little switches to 
make ’em go and other little switches to make ’em 
stop. Do you really believe the whole outfit, engine- 
driver and all, to be a ghost? Come, that isn’t 
reasonable.” 

66 It has nothing to do with reason! I tell you 
I’ve seen it — heard it — shrieking, Icrashing, the 
brake grinding — the headlights flashing — I’ve 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


147 


seen it with my own eyes, and no train has ever run 
on this line after seven o’clock. It’s true, it’s true!” 
She clutched at his arm. 64 Don’t go near it — keep 
away — this place is haunted.” She looked round, 
her eyes staring wide in fear. 44 Oh, I’m frightened, 
I’m frightened, always-” 

He put his arms about her, every nerve in him 
wanting to protect her, to make her forget, to com¬ 
fort her and soothe her — and yet he went on. 

44 But doesn’t the legend say that whoever sees 
the darn thing dies? Come Julia, it didn’t kill you , 
did it?” 

44 Very nearly, very nearly! I almost died, I’ve 
never been the same since. Don’t speak of it any 
more, I beg you. I try to forget it. I can’t bear 
to speak of it any more, please!” 

She was so evidently on the verge of an hysteri¬ 
cal breakdown that Morrison forebore to question 
her further. He saw it would be useless until she 
was calmer. They sat in silence for a few minutes, 
while she struggled to regain her self-control. 

44 Promise me you won’t talk of it again,” she 
besought him. 44 It makes me so ill even to think 
of it. I am not very strong; you see I am not.” 

He patted her hand. 44 No, no, I won’t speak of 
it, of course, if you don’t want to.” 

She stood up. 44 Please get back on your sofa 



148 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


and rest your foot to-day, if you really mean to 
begin using it in earnest.” 

He noticed that she had accepted his dictum and 
no longer tried to dissuade him from his plan to 
leave on the morrow, and wondered if the. mention 
of the phantom train had anything to do with that. 
In any case, the conversation had given him fresh 
food for thought. It was one thing to hear rumours 
of a ghostly visitation among a crowd of gullible 
villagers and quite another to be in communication 
with one who had actually seen the phantom that, 
whatever it was, had obviously made the deepest 
kind of impression on the girl. It had created in 
her a sense of terror that haunted her whole life, 
that accounted in some measure, perhaps entirely, 
for the frightened look in her eyes. 

But it did not account for the remarkable fact 
that she remained in the neighbourhood of the thing 
that caused her so much agony of mind. Why did 
she not leave the place? What was there to prevent 
her and her old father from cutting adrift from that 
ship of despair? 


CHAPTER XY 


The house in the hollow of the old quarry was 
quiet again. The lamp was out, but the oil-stove 
still burned, throwing queer shadows into the cor¬ 
ners of the room. The wind soughed gently and 
every now and then sent a twig or two of the tree 
outside the window tapping against the house. 

Morrison did not sleep on his couch. He was 
waiting till he felt sure the girl and the old profes¬ 
sor were deep in slumber before he got up. He had 
work to do. He was leaving the house to-morrow — 
perhaps never to enter it again — and there was 
much to learn yet. He might have lost more than 
a fortnight of valuable work by that unfortunate 
spraining of his ankle, on the other hand the pass¬ 
ing of time was sometimes necessary in the working 
out of queer things, and there was seldom any use 
in forcing the issue. Waiting played an important 
part in the game. On the whole, he was inclined to 
hope those weeks were not badly spent, impatiently 
as he had been wanting to get into harness again. 
For he had now two main objects — the discovery 
of Heath’s murderer and the probing of that ghost 
train mystery — these two were, in his opinion, 
149 


150 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


one — and the clearing of Julia’s character in his 
own eyes and the world’s. Not that the world mat¬ 
tered much if he could only be convinced in his 
own mind of her innocence. That mattered, most 
enormously. 

By his wrist-watch and the glow of the stove he 
saw that it was nearly half-past twelve. Long ago, 
the two other occupants of the house would, he 
trusted, have been wrapped in slumber; but he 
wanted to leave nothing to chance. Shifting him¬ 
self off the couch presently, he groped for and 
found the professor’s walking-stick with which Julia 
had provided him and, carrying a candle, and paus¬ 
ing step by step to listen, made his way to the door 
and opened it softly. 

To his right stretched the corridor, ending in the 
stairs leading to the Silvertons’ apartments above, 
and interrupted by the three doors which led respec¬ 
tively to a small apartment used as a dressing-bath¬ 
room, and the two bedrooms — Julia’s and Pro¬ 
fessor Price’s. To his left, the corridor ended in 
the front door of the house with, at right angles to 
it on the other side of the passage, the hollow of 
blackness that was obviously the entrance to the 
lower regions — and the underground chamber 
through whose grilled window he had seen the old 
man bending over the table. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


151 


There was a hat-and-coat-rack near the front 
door. He groped his way along, fearing to use the 
walking-stick on the bare boards, found his mackin¬ 
tosh and drew his electric torch and — from force 
of habit — a box of matches from the pocket; then, 
on second thought, he slipped the coat over his dress¬ 
ing-gown. It was cold. Extinguishing the light he 
carried, he placed the candle-stick on the hall-stand • 
and bent his footsteps towards that hollow that 
loomed so blackly ahead. 

It led, he found when he reached it, through 
the open door to a flight of stone steps that went 
steeply down. He remembered hearing the old 
man’s shuffling footsteps descending those stone 
stairs on the day he had first sought entrance to the 
mysterious house hid in the valley. 

Even with his careful goirig, it seemed to him 
now, that his own footsteps echoed as hollowly, and 
that the faint noises he could not avoid making, 
hampered as he was by that burdensome foot of his, 
must awaken the sleepers in their rooms above. 

But he managed the descent without mishap, 
and in a few minutes found himself in the cellar¬ 
like room he had set out to investigate. 

It was an eerie place indeed, that chamber. 
Morrison stared round him in astonishment, flash¬ 
ing the feeble beam of his torch in all directions. 


152 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


A large room, stone-flagged: the ceiling beams 
blackened and hung with cobwebs, the whitewashed 
walls patched and peeling here and there with great 
splotches of damp. And cold as a tomb. He was 
glad he had donned his coat. 

On the floor at intervals round the walls were 
ranged a number of curious-shaped boxes that, at 
his first amazed glance, Morrison took to be large 
coffins. They revealed themselves, indeed, on closer 
inspection, to be nothing else. Egyptian mummy- 
cases, the lids firmly in their places, hiding who 
knew what of the sinister, perhaps the very bodies 
of long dead men! 

From one such, doubtless the old fellow had 
received the seeds from which he had planted the 
patch of oat-field in the garden — from another, 
the phial of poison on which he had based those 
gruesome experiments resulting in the death of 
Julia’s little dog, Nelly Bligh, perhaps in the mur¬ 
der of Heath- 

He stood for a few moments in horrid fascina- 
n at the Professor’s queer playthings, then 
directed the feeble rays of his torch to the rest of 
the cellar’s contents. On shelves that ran about the 
walls reposed some of those beautiful little statu¬ 
ettes the old man had exhibited with such pride; 
on a bench in a corner were rough copies of them 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


153 


among lumps of white modelling clay, while upon 
the table in the middle of the room, the table 
over which he had seen the professor stooping, 
rested a number of glass vessels, small scales, re¬ 
torts, china slabs, tools and such like objects used 
in the analyst’s studies. 

The professor’s workshop, strangely sinister 
though its contents were, seemed to be particularly 
well equipped; but for what purpose, as Morrison 
asked himself again, if for any beyond the gratifica¬ 
tion of a harmless passion for discovery? 

The small circle of light cast by the torch 
reminded him that through the barred window a 
close observer might see what went on in that room. 
Not that there seemed any likelihood of nocturnal 
visitors; but he stripped off the mackintosh at the 
thought, and reaching up, draped it across the win¬ 
dow as high as he could, hanging it on a couple of 
convenient nails at each side. The action revealed 
a somewhat curious thing. 

The inside sill, he now noticed, was made of 
solid wood that sloped downwards from the frame¬ 
work at an angle of roughly forty-five degrees, and 
the surface of it was scarred and ground in vertical 
lines as though some heavy weights had been drawn 
across it. Some of the scars were old, some new and 
showing up whitely on the grimed surface. 


154 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


The detective examined them carefully. Then, 
sending the beam of his torch downwards, he turned 
his attention to the stone-flagged floor. It was swept 
clean, but here and there in the interstices of the 
slabs, were small fragments of straw, such as might 
have fallen from material used in packing. 

There was nothing specially strange about that. 
The cellar window might be used as a convenient 
entrance for goods, even, perhaps, for the food 
stores which, presumably, being so far from any 
town, might be ordered to be sent by train or car in 
fairly large quantities at infrequent intervals. Still, 
those scars on the window ledge would indicate the 
passage of stores of a distinctly massive nature, he 
reflected. Perhaps the mummy-cases were recent 
acquisitions? 

He limped across to them and kneeling on the 
cold stones, closely examined the edges where they 
rested on the floor. There was sufficient accumula¬ 
tion of dust and dirt, more or less adhesive with 
time, to show that they had been in that position 
for a considerable period. He tried to shove one a 
little aside. It was extraordinarily heavy; even for 
his respectably muscular arms, absolutely immove¬ 
able. That was somewhat puzzling, because these 
inner wooden shells of old Egyptian notabilities as 
a rule were not constructed in very strong fashion. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


155 


He attempted to lift the painted lids. Two were 
fastened securely. The third and largest of the half 
dozen or so cases that edged the walls gave to his 
endeavours. He pushed it a few inches aside. 

Peering down into the gap, to his excited curi¬ 
osity it seemed for a moment that he was looking 
at the pale winding sheet perhaps of some long 
dead princeling. He touched the yellowish white 
covering, whatever it was, rather gingerly, and with¬ 
drew his finger quickly. It was cold, cold and 
clammy as death itself, and for a second the eeri¬ 
ness of the whole proceeding seized on Teddie’s 
imagination. He felt actually frightened and 
goose-fleshy. Then he recovered his sangfroid with 
an inward smile. Detectives, specially those won¬ 
derfully unhuman machines one read of in mystery 
novels (the nearest approach to the real thing the 
majority of the world ever got to, after all), had no 
nerves! Thrusting his hand in again beneath the 
hollow lid, Morrison discovered the coffin to be 
filled with clay. 

He sat back on his heels and considered, frown¬ 
ing. He would have given anything for a smoke at 
that moment, but even if he could have risked it, he 
had no tobacco or cigarettes in his dressing-gown 
pocket, only the matches he had transferred from 
his overcoat. Clay! Clay in an ancient Egyptian 


156 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


mummy-case! He muttered under his breath a 
favourite expression of poor young Heath’s that 
came irrelevantly to his mind, “ Little apples!” 

Now what the deuce was common or garden 
clay doing in a gruesome receptacle of that sort? 
The chances were it hid something valuable — 
what did it hide? The powdering bones of a two- 
thousand-year-old monarch, or-? 

Seized with renewed energy, Morrison leant 
over the coffin and tried to penetrate the secret. But 
the top clay had caked into very nearly a hard 
crust and resisted all efforts to break it with his 
hands. He dug at it with the butt of his torch, dug 
feverishly till the mass broke, then plunged in his 
hands again, threw the torch on the floor, thrust 
deeper with both hands till he was up to the elbows 
in soft yellowish earth; and then he felt something 
beneath, something hard and cold — something 
long, heavy, cylindrical- 

He drew out his arms again covered with sticky 
clay, felt desperately for and found the torch again, 
pressed the end. There was no response — the bat¬ 
tery had given way or he had broken the bulb in his 
reckless digging. Morrison uttered a smothered 
66 Damn!” and felt for the matches in his pocket. 
But his luck was gone. The box was nearly empty. 

By the light of the only remaining thr^g it con- 




THE GHOST TRAIN 157 

tained, he managed to strike. He saw enough to 
make his heart beat faster! 

In the uncanny blackness of the underground 
chamber, he dragged himself upright and stood 
stock-still and stunned while the significance of the 
thing developed itself upon his consciousness, out¬ 
lining dimly, as it were, a map-plan upon the dark. 
Piece by piece it resolved itself before him, hesita¬ 
tingly, gropingly, vaguely, then clearer and clearer, 
till all seemed plain as day. 


Minutes later, his mind engrossed with the dis¬ 
covery to the exclusion of all else, he felt his way 
back stumblingly to the door, dragged himself up 
the stone stairs, and reached his room. 

It was not till many hours of that sleepless night 
had passed that he remembered he had left his 
mackintosh hanging over the window. He resolved 
to creep down and get it with the first streak of 
dawn that crept through the curtained windows; 
then forgot it in the flying snatches of thought that 
raced through his elated brain. 

He had reached something positive at last, some¬ 
thing big; perhaps the biggest thing the Yard had 
been at work on for many a long day; and it would 
be Morrison who would pull it off, and not Barlow! 


158 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


No one was in on it but himself. His mind leaped 
beyond the stretch of doubtless delicate work that 
lay ahead before the end was reached, to the con¬ 
clusion of the matter; visualised the Chief’s con¬ 
gratulations, even the headlines in the papers — 
why, that Cologne episode would be nothing to it! 

And then he brought himself and his boyishly 
excited imaginings to a standstill by one thought 
that sent a chilly feeling through his marrow. 

Julia. 


CHAPTER XVI 


It was late when Teddie Morrison woke that 
morning, and she was standing by his bedside with 
his breakfast on a tray and telling him that it was 
nearly half-past nine. 

66 You were sleeping so soundly that I hadn’t the 
heart to wake you before,” she said with her sweet 
smile. Then, lifting the cover from an appetising 
dish of bacon and eggs, she added mischievously, 
66 Do you know, I have always wondered if you slept 
in those dark glasses. This is the first time I have 
ever seen you without them.” 

He grinned, reached for the spectacles from the 
table by his side and put them on. But it seemed an 
unnecessary action. The time could not be far dis¬ 
tant now when they would both have to come out in 
their true colours. 

46 6 Now we see as through a glass darkly,’ ” he 
quoted. 44 1 hope I shall soon be able to discard 
them. I think,” he added significantly, 44 it will not 
be long.” 

Julia, who was always quick to perceive hidden 
meanings, regarded him with a little puzzled frown; 
then another thought entered her mind and she left 
159 


160 THE GHOST TRAIN 

the subject of Morrison’s glasses to say a little 
worriedly: 

66 1 have two patients this morning. Father isn’t 
a bit well, so I insisted on his staying in bed to 
breakfast.” 

“ I’m sorry to hear that,” Morrison answered 
sympathetically. 66 He hasn’t seemed quite himself 
for a few days now.” 

66 No, not since Nelly died.” 

Despite his sympathy for any trouble of Julia’s 
(and her grey eyes this morning held an added 
shadow of anxiety) Morrison felt a temporary sense 
of relief at the thought that the old fellow hadn’t 
entered his workshop yet to-day. The mackintosh 
was still hanging over the grated window, glaring 
evidence of his violation of the professor’s sanctum, 
evidence enough to give the whole game away. 
When Julia found out that she had been for weeks 
harbouring a spy (and not only sheltering him but 
attending with such unwearying tenderness to his 
physical needs as a sick man), and that the only 
reward she was to get was his betrayal of her and 
her old father, what would her feelings towards him 
be? 

He was tempted to a confession of the whole 
matter. That course, however, was an impossible 
one now. Much, very much of grave import was 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


161 


involved. His personal inclinations must be more 
rigorously repressed than ever. He must keep a 
tight hand on himself and get away from Julia’s 
presence as quickly as possible, for he knew safety 
lay only in flight if his worst fears were realised. 

Yet, looking at her for the thousandth time, with 
her innocent, almost childlike mien, her frank yet 
anxious eyes, he asked himself the same old ques¬ 
tions. He couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it. And then 
again, was it possible that she could be in that house* 
for weeks, months, years, and not be a party to the 
menacing events of which it was the centre-point? 
Possible, yes; but hardly probable, hardly credible. 

That queer little remark, now, about his spec¬ 
tacles. Her reference to Cologne, and losing her hat. 
Almost as if she challenged him. The lie — if it was 
one?— about her father. 

He hated himself for his suspicions, but the 
doubts would still lurk in the corners of his mind. 
Not that it made any difference to his actual regard 
for her. That was one thing that stood above and 
apart from all the rest: whatever she was, what¬ 
ever she did, he would still love her, she would still 
remain the one woman he had ever desired to make 
his own. 

There remained, of course, the question of 
Julia’s own feelings on the matter. In the watches 


162 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


of the night and in the long hours spent in enforced 
idleness on his sofa with that blessed sprained foot 
bound in Julia’s cold compresses, he had often 
contemplated it — sometimes it had seemed to him 
that she wanted to keep him there as long as pos¬ 
sible. But while she had been kindness itself, she 
had given him no reason to suppose that she returned 
his love, none whatever; and now he felt he would 
give anything he possessed to learn whether he had 
the faintest chance. A sudden idea crossed his 
mind. 

46 Miss Julia,” putting down his empty cup, 
64 I’m going to get up; clothed and in my right mind 
and I shall once more burst upon an astonished 
world — with my little bag of samples. Will you 
do something for me?” 

44 Anything.” 

44 Anything?” 

44 Anything in reason,” Julia amended the 
promise. 

44 Will you go down to your father’s workroom 
and bring me my raincoat?” 

44 But your raincoat is hanging in the hall,” she 
told him without a trace of surprise. 

44 No, it isn’t. I left it downstairs last night. As 
a matter of fact I wanted to see how this con¬ 
founded foot worked, so I gave it a trial last night 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


163 


after you’d gone to bed. Wandered downstairs in 
my coat and left it behind. Do you mind?” 

“ Not in the least; but why didn’t you ask me to 
help you yesterday, instead of getting up in the 
middle of the night?” 

66 Well, I had an idea I wanted to give this foot 
a chance of showing what it could do, unaided.” 

66 You are very independent,” she returned with 
a provoking little smile, and went off. 

There had been not the slightest sign of trepida¬ 
tion about her when he made his request: she had 
shown no surprise or agitation at the thought of 
his being alone in the old scientist’s cellar, and 
Morrison understood her well enough now to know 
that any feeling she experienced was immediately 
reflected in her expressive, mobile features and in 
those tell-tale eyes of hers. But when she found the 
mackintosh hanging on the window, with the blatant 
intention of shielding his doings from the possibility 
of seeking eyes, her suspicions would certainly be 
awakened. She would realise that he suspected 
something strange in the house. She would be on 
her guard. 

His own motives in sending her on that errand 
had been quite clearly defined in his mind. He 
desired urgently, on this their last day together, to 
set his mind at rest over her own part in the sinister 


164 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


proceedings; and he was in the mood to run a cer¬ 
tain amount of risk in finding that out. 

He passed a few extremely tense moments until 
she came back with the coat over her arm. She was 
perfectly calm — it was evident that the little mis¬ 
sion had been the most ordinary one in the world to 
her. 

46 You left it in a heap on the floor by the win¬ 
dow,” she said in pretended rebuke. 66 1 nearly fell 
over it.” 

Morrison murmured his thanks. By luck — or 
was it misfortune, since it deprived him of the test 
he had aimed at making?— the wretched mackin¬ 
tosh had fallen from its nails to the ground. Still, 
she knew he had been in that underground room; 
and the fact had not, apparently, perturbed her, 
which in itself, under the circumstances, seemed to 
him to dissociate her from a partnership in guilt. 

But yet, he regretted that the test had not been a 
complete one. Now, short of laying his cards on the 
table, there seemed no way of getting at the truth; 
and with the light that the knowledge he had had in 
his possession since the previous night shed on 
things, it seemed more than ever urgent that he 
should know it. 

66 Your clothes are in the first long drawer of the 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


165 


dressing-chest in the bathroom,” said Julia, 66 but I 
don’t think you can get your boot on yet, can you? 
There’s still a little swelling, you see.” 

When she had gone again, Morrison drew out his 
torch from under the sofa where he had placed it 
on his return from the cellar, thrust it into the pocket 
of his mackintosh and carried it into the bathroom. 
Part of the yellowish clay still adhered to it. He 
cleansed it, ascertaining that the battery had run 
out. At first he was perturbed: but on reflection, as 
he splashed in his tub, he determined that it was of 
no import. There was no use in pursuing the investi¬ 
gation further. He had discovered as much as he or 
any one else wanted to discover in that house — 
the rest, he argued, must be done from the outside, 
and the sooner he got away and into touch with 
Jackson and the Chief, the better. He had it all at 
his fingers’ ends now. 

Dressed for the first time for weeks in normal 
attire, but still retaining the old man’s bedroom 
slippers, for his ankle hurt when he tried on his boot, 
Morrison hobbled along the corridor to the front 
door. He felt the convalescent’s desire to see the 
trees and the sky and breathe in the fresh air of the 
out-of-doors. In a few minutes he found Julia 
standing at his elbow. 


166 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 You asked me just now to do something for 
you,” she began. 66 Now it’s my turn. Will you 
do something for me?” 

64 Anything,” said Morrison smiling as he re¬ 
membered her own words of a little earlier. 

44 Anything?” She smiled too. 

44 Anything. You see, I make no reservations. 
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Julia,” he 
added, with a grave sincerity. 

Julia evaded his eyes. 

44 1 am worried about father. He seems quite 
ill and I am going to telephone for the doctor.” 

44 1 am sorry — you have a telephone here, 
then?” he asked guardedly. 

44 Upstairs, in Mr. Silverton’s room.” 

44 1 hope your father isn’t really ill. Could you 
at the same time ’phone to the Black Sheep for a car 
to come and fetch me? But tell me what it is I can 
do for you?” 

44 1 wondered,” she said diffidently, 44 if you 
would mind staying till to-morrow — or until the 
doctor comes. Father seems so queer that I hardly 
like to be left alone.” 

Anxious as he was to be getting on with the 
job in hand. Morrison replied without hesitation. 

44 Of course I’ll stay, if I can be of any use to 


THE GHOST TRAIN 167 

“ Thank you,” she said gratefully. 66 Now I’ll 
go and telephone.” 

He followed her thoughtfully back to the sitting- 
room door, and watched her slight figure running 
up the uncarpeted stairs. 

For his life, he could not help the uncomfort¬ 
able suspicion that this was some new move in the 
game to keep him a prisoner still. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Those hours of waiting till the doctor’s arrival 
were very irksome ones to Morrison. He was eager 
and anxious to pursue his investigations in the light 
of his discovery — he wanted to get right down to 
it; but he had promised Julia to stand by until at 
least the verdict on the old man’s condition was 
known to her, and the doctor’s assistant had tele¬ 
phoned that he was away on a case and would not 
return till the late afternoon. 

The house in the valley, meantime, took on that 
hush of still expectancy common to the shadow of 
sickness. Julia remained with her father most of 
the morning. Mrs. Barrett, the woman from the 
shop on the sea front, who came every day to clean 
and cook, seemed to be busy overhead judging by 
the faint noises he heard every now and then. 

He was rather looking forward to seeing the two 
men who occupied those rooms overhead, in view of 
all things. What bearing they had on the mystery 
he was on the point of fathoming, must now soon be 
revealed. He entertained some lively speculations 
about them; but, on reflection, he was of the opinion 
that he had best perform the duty of a good scout, 
168 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


169 


which was to see and not be seen by them. In other 
words, he decided that it would be well for him to 
have quitted the house before they came back. 

Mrs. Barrett, herself, was a bit of a mystery; 
she seemed to keep strange hours. Sometimes she 
came early in the morning, sometimes at mid-day, 
sometimes in the afternoon. And she had never 
allowed him the chance of a single moment’s pri¬ 
vate conversation with her during those weeks when 
he had been confined to the couch in the sitting- 
room. Listening to the blurred noises of carpet- 
brushing and furniture moving overhead, he pon¬ 
dered about Mrs. Barrett. 

It was twenty minutes to four on that lowering 
winter’s afternoon when Julia came cloaked and 
hooded into the room. 

66 1 am going to the end of the drive to meet the 
doctor,” she told him. There was no mistaking her 
anxiety; her manner gave him the impression of a 
nervous desperation that insisted on some sort of 
action. 66 He may not find his way in the dark. 
Would you, I wonder, listen, in case my father 
should call? He’s asleep now, but I shouldn’t like 
him to wake and want something and find no one 
there to attend to him — and Mrs. Barrett is so 
busy. I left the door ajar.” 

66 Certainly I will. Mrs. Barrett is preparing for 


170 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Mr. Silverton’s return?” It was a long shot, but it 
found a mark. Julia bit her lip before she replied 
with obvious reluctance. 

“ Yes. We heard this morning they will be 
coming soon. I don’t know quite when.” 

She turned at the door, threw him a lingering 
look as though she would say something that a 
stronger force than herself kept her from uttering, 
then disappeared without another word. 

It was not more than a minute or so after she 
had gone, and while Teddie was still cogitating on 
the meaning of that look of hers, that he heard a 
low muttering sound coming from the old man’s 
room. Teddie limped along the passage and pushed 
open the door. 

The professor was not asleep and talking in 
delirium as he had half feared. Instead, he was 
reclining on his elbow in the bed, his face and hair 
not less white than the pillow, and writing some¬ 
thing in a little note-book with a frail and shaking 
hand. Teddie heard the words he slowly uttered, 
weak though they were, as he wrote them down 
laboriously. 

66 At three, the sense of lassitude more extreme 
— at three-fifteen, in a bath of perspiration — at 
three-twenty, the slight paralysis of the lower limbs 
begins — no pain-” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 171 

He broke off, seeing Morrison standing at the 
foot of his bed, and stared at him for a few sec¬ 
onds with his burning eyes. Then he thrust the diary 
with feeble haste out of sight beneath his pillow and 
sank back on it with an exhausted sigh, closing his 
eyes. 

“ Can I do anything for you, sir?” Morrison 
bent over him to ask. The old man paid no heed. 
Either he slept or had lost consciousness, or he 
was assuming one or the other; and after a few 
moments’ indecisive watching, Morrison tiptoed out 
again. 

He was shocked beyond measure by those words 
the scientist had uttered. Tragedy seemed to be 
closing down on the house in the hollow. He went 
and stood outside the front door to breathe in the 
sane air of the outer world, even though it was dank 
and laden with mists from the Cornish sea, and to 
ponder over the flame of fanaticism that could cause 
a man to undergo torments, even the sacrifice of life 
itself, in the interests of science. And presently he 
saw the headlights of the doctor’s car as it made its 
slow way down the overgrown drive, and then it 
drew up at the door and Julia and the doctor 
descended and hurried past, scarcely noticing him, 
into the house. 

Not five minutes later the detective heard a 


172 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


slight crackling among the dry branches of the 
trees, and Jackson cautiously emerged. 

46 You gave me a fright till I recognised you, 
sir,” he grinned. 46 Glad to see you up and about, 
though. I got a lift along the road in that doctor’s 
car and I was afraid it was you he was coming to 
see.” 

44 No, I’m as fit as a fiddle — it’s the old man — 
Jackson, I’ve never been so pleased to see any one 
in my life. We’re on the track of a big plot, my 
boy. Last night I found the clue to the whole thing. 
There’s no mistaking it — but I can’t tell you now, 
we may be interrupted at any moment.” 

Jackson’s eyes goggled in sheer anticipation, 
but, like a good assistant, he asked no questions but 
waited for what information was to be dealt out to 
him. Captain Morrison, however, was wasting no 
words on explanations. He had his orders to give 
and gave them crisply. But first he asked a some¬ 
what irrelevant question. 

44 What’s the date, Jackson?” 

44 The date, sir? Twenty-eighth, I think. I’ll 

soon see-” He drew a newspaper from his 

pocket and screwed up his eyes in an endeavour to 
read in the failing light. 44 Yes, twenty-eighth. And 
by the way, there’s something about that ghost train 
here in the paper, a funny paragraph-” 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


173 


66 Give it to me — that’ll wait till presently.” 
Morrison stuffed the sheet into his pocket. 66 Now, 
Jackson, I want half a dozen men posted out of 
sight but within hail of the station platform here 
for the next few nights. I want the jetty kept under 
strict observation — and I want this place sur¬ 
rounded. If you’ve got an odd man or two you may 
as well keep ’em somewhere around the quarries on 
the cliff road. Got all that? To-night — no delay. 
It may not come off for a day or two, but we’re 
leaving nothing to chance.” 

66 Understood, sir.” 

44 Good man.” 

66 What about the tunnel, sir?” 

66 I’ll attend to that,” the detective replied after 
a second’s consideration. 44 You keep the salient 

points covered. And — by the way, Jackson-” 

64 Sir?” 

44 1 may or may not have another chance of talk¬ 
ing to you. If it comes to a scrap — it might, 
to-night, or to-morrow, or the next day — I want 
you to have Miss Price and her father under your 
own personal supervision, and to see that they are 
incommoded in no way, until you get word from 
me. That clear?” 

44 Clear as day; you seem pretty confident about 
all this, sir.” 



174 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


64 I’m putting all my money on it, Jackson, 
against rather long odds. As you suggest (yes, you 
did, you old blackguard, don’t deny it), there’s a 
chance of the horse being scratched. If it is, if 
we’re on the wrong scent, then I’m completely fin¬ 
ished and Barlow is welcome to buzz along and 
pick up the jolly old trail again. By the way, he 
hasn’t done much over that Cologne business, has 
he?” 

Jackson chuckled slyly. 64 Not he, sir. That 
little lot’s still at large. It wouldn’t surprise me if 
you and me came into the running again. If we 
get on top of this, the Chief’ll certainly want to 
put you on to clear Mr. Barlow’s messes, sir.” 

44 Looking a bit ahead, aren’t you, old bean? 
We’re not out of this wood yet by quite a long 
chalk. Now, if my calculations are correct, we may 
expect something lively within the next few days 
— nights, I mean.” 

44 Nights, sir?” 

44 Yes, nights, Jackson.” 

44 You mean, sir-?” 

44 1 mean that we’re going to get to the bottom 
of this phantom train business, at last, Jackson. 
This is the twenty-eighth of November, I think 
you said; I’ve lost track of dates here.” 

44 That’s right, sir.” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


175 


66 Mr. Heath died—was killed—on the twenty- 
ninth of the month, Jackson.” 

64 Ah! That newspaper paragraph’ll interest 
you, sir.” Jackson’s tone was dry. 

44 1 daresay, but we’ve no more time. Got all 
those instructions straight now?” 

44 Right, sir.” 

44 Then toddle off back — quick. I hear them 
coming.” 

A slight rustling of branches betokened Jack¬ 
son’s departure through the trees and the next mo¬ 
ment Julia and the doctor came down the corridor 
from the professor’s bedroom and stood in the 
hallway near the door talking in low tones. Morri¬ 
son limped into them with the detached air of a 
man who has been admiring the scenery, but neither 
heeded him. 

44 It’s an extraordinary thing, extraordinary,” 
the doctor was saying in a puzzled way. 44 All the 
symptoms point to poisoning. I’ll send him some 
medicine the first thing to-morrow, Miss Price. 
There’s no actual danger, I think, but his tempera¬ 
ture is below normal and we must get his strength 
up. That’s the chief trouble as far as I can see. Fol¬ 
low those directions and let him have another dose 
of that sleeping draught to-night. He should be 
better in the morning; I’ll call again then.” 


176 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


46 Poisoning!” Julia’s face was very white as 
she repeated the word under her breath. 66 It can’t 
be — poisoning! ” And she stood with her hands 
clasped tightly together, with unseeing eyes, and 
never noticed the doctor’s 64 goodbye ” as he got 
into his car and was driven away into the dusk. 
Scarcely did she notice Morrison, when he drew her 
arm gently through his own, and led her back to the 
sitting-room with what soothing words he could 
find to say. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“ Poison!” the girl repeated, as she sank limply 
on to Morrison’s couch. 66 Does that mean-” 

Morrison nodded. 

“ I’m afraid so, Miss Julia — I’m afraid it 
means that, failing other subjects, your father has 
used himself as the victim of his experiments with 
that Egyptian drug. You know, whichever way 
you look at it, that’s a pretty fine thing to do. He 
might easily have chosen me, for instance, instead. 
No one would have been the wiser,” he added, in a 
vain endeavour to turn her thoughts into lighter 
channels. 

46 Oh, no! Father would never have done that. 
Why, that might have meant — murder!” 

44 Well, this fresh experiment might have meant 
suicide. He was willing to sacrifice his life if neces¬ 
sary.” 

44 That’s different. Father is so gentle, he would 

not willingly hurt-” She stopped and sighed 

heavily. He guessed she was thinking of Nelly 
Bligh, her little dog that had died under the profes¬ 
sor’s experiments with that very poison. 

177 




178 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 When one gets obsessed by a great idea as 
this one is to the professor,” Morrison explained, 
attempting to soften the hard fact of the old man’s 
fanaticism, 66 one’s normal character changes. I 
know your father is kindness itself in every other 
matter but this one. He feels he has a mission.” 

46 If only they hadn’t encouraged him so! If 
only-” she looked at Morrison with appre¬ 

hensive eyes. 

Once again she had been on the verge of a con¬ 
fession, or of an explanation which she had no right 
to make, which something had urged her to with¬ 
hold. 

He pressed her hand in both his. “ Julia,” he 
said earnestly, 44 listen. To-morrow I am going 
away, and we may never meet again. I may have 
no further chance of doing anything to help you; 
and I know you need help. Now tell me. Why have 
you wanted me to stay here?” 

44 Have you stayed against your will?” 

The answer was a procrastination, and Teddie, 
at that moment, was determined to brook no devia¬ 
tions from the course he meant to pursue. If neces¬ 
sary, he must use the force of his will; and suddenly 
he made up his mind to do it, against his own 
inclinations, but fired with the urgent necessity for 
getting a step further in this strange matter. Con- 



THE GHOST TRAIN 179 

centrating his whole thought on extracting from her 
an answer to his question: 

66 Tell me,” he repeated, fixing her eyes with 
his own, and exerting all the power he possessed to 
bring the girl under his will. 

“I — I-” 

She seemed to be struggling against it. Then, 
quite suddenly she gave up. 

“ I wanted you to help me — I felt I could trust 
you, and I needed help, so badly,” she replied 
faintly. 

66 Help — against what?” He gripped her hand 
tighter. 

“ Against — them. The Silvertons. They make 
me — do things I do not want to do. I am not my 
own! They — they hypnotise me. Oh, I know it, 
when they are not here; I fight against it then, but 
when they come back I am weak and powerless 
again. I have to do what they want me to do.” Her 
voice had sunk to a whisper and he had to bend low 
to catch the words she uttered. 

66 How did you think I could help you against 
them?” he urged. 

66 Something told me you could destroy this 
horror that is menacing us. Oh, I do not know what 
it is! I know that everything here is cruel and 
wrong, and that my father is in their power-” 




180 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Her voice was growing weaker and weaker, her dark 
lashes drooped on her pale cheeks. 

And Morrison, afraid that she was about to 
faint under the influence of the suggestion he was 
exercising over her, and already ashamed of his 
deliberate attempt to obtain information she would 
not have given under ordinary circumstances, loos¬ 
ened the tension of his thoughts and his grip upon 
her hand. But before he let it go, he stooped his 
head and kissed it. He felt an intense relief that 
needed some means of expression at her uncon¬ 
scious words. 

66 God bless you, Julia,” he murmured; and he 
added to himself, 66 And damn those villains!” 

She raised her head and looked at him with the 
dazed expression he had seen before in her eyes, as 
though she had suddenly waked out of sleep in 
strange surroundings. 

66 1 had better go and see if my father is all 
right,” she said uncertainly. 44 1 haven’t been talk¬ 
ing nonsense, have I?” she added eagerly. 

44 No, Julia, you’ve been talking the most won¬ 
derful good sense. Come back again, soon.” 

He smiled so reassuringly up at her that in spite 
of herself she answered it with a smile of her own, 
albeit a pale and transient one. 

She flitted away looking like a grey moth in her 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


181 


cloak, and Morrison lighted a cigarette and smoked 
vigorously till she returned a few minutes later. 

The information she had given him was of the 
utmost value to his own piece of mind: it lightened 
his anxieties to an amazing degree, raised the cloud 
under which he had been oppressed for many a day. 
Julia was innocent, he now felt certain, sinned 
against but not sinning; and he reproached himself 
again and again for ever having entertained doubts 
of her. 

Just for what purpose those two brothers, who 
occupied the luxurious upstairs flat, kept the girl 
and her old father there, it was now imperative he 
should discover. Their reason for occupying that 
remotely buried house was a secret he thought he 
already knew, if his guesses in conjunction with the 
information he had obtained were to be relied upon, 
though to nobody, not even to Jackson, scarcely to 
himself, would he for the moment disclose them. 
They were his and his alone till time and events 
proved him right or wrong. 

66 Never tell your dream,” was a favourite quo¬ 
tation of the Chief’s that flashed through his mind 
now. 66 Not even to yourself.” 

66 He’s fallen asleep,” Julia told him when she 
came back. 46 Mrs. Barrett says she can’t stop 


182 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


to-night — the tide’s low now, so I told her to go.” 

66 The tide?” 

64 She lives down by the jetty, and walks along 
the shore, and through the smugglers’ tunnel,” Julia 
explained. 

44 Ah!” The mystery of the varying hours 
Julia’s charwoman kept at the house was explained. 
Silly that he had never thought of it. 44 So one can 
walk right along the shore?” 

44 In that direction, yes, at low tide. The rocks 
stop one the other way. Can you stay with mie, do 
you think?” 

44 I’ll stay, of course, Julia.” But there was 
just a fleeting second when he wondered why Mrs. 
Barrett could not have stayed under the peculiar 
circumstances. 

After a pause Morrison asked quietly: 44 Will 
you tell me what you meant when you said those 
Silvertons made you do things against your will?” 

44 1 didn’t say that! No, no! I couldn’t --” 

She stared at him out of scared eyes, and shrank 
away. 44 1 didn’t mean to say that.” 

44 Perhaps I was mistaken.” He did not pur¬ 
sue the point, seeing her distress, but questioned 
instead, 44 When you said you wished they had not 
encouraged your father in his experiments, what 
did you mean then? Why do you stay here if they 



THE GHOST TRAIN 183 

frighten you? Must you? You are not happy 
here, are you?” 

“Happy!” She laughed a mirthless laugh. 
“ I’ve never been happy since we came to live here. 
Do I look happy?” 

“ You look frightened,” he said tenderly. 
64 Like a frightened dove, Julia. That’s what I 
thought when I first saw you.” 

44 That’s just what I am. Frightened to death!” 

44 Can’t you tell me about it? Would you rather 
not? I shall not press you, Julia, but mightn’t it 
make things easier?” 

Her eyes were rivetted on his for a long moment 
before she answered. She seemed to want to tell 
him something and to be debating inwardly as to 
whether she ought to take him into her confidence 
or not; and Morrison waited patiently until she 
made up her mind. 

At length she spoke. 44 Very well, I will tell 
you.” 

44 Come and sit here on the sofa beside me,” he 
invited her. 44 Never mind the lamp. There, that’s 
better. How cold your hands are!” 

She was silent a moment, but she did not with¬ 
draw the cold little hands he chafed so gently 
between his own, as though she were a child he 
was tending. 


184 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 You will never let them know I told you? You 
promise?” 

66 1 promise.” 

44 It began a long time ago,” she explained 
drearily. 66 1 was only a child at school. My mother 
was alive then. My father has always dabbled in 
Egyptology — it was his hobby though he was an 
analyst by profession. He used to spend part of 
the year in Egypt, and I can always remember the 
beautiful little things he used to bring us when he 
came home. Statuettes, like those he has down¬ 
stairs—and ushabtis, little glazed, doll-like models 
supposed to be the servants the Egyptians buried 
in their coffins with them to serve them till they 
lived again; and vases, and gold ornaments. Then 
he became associated with some people, scientists 
like himself, who were going to make a new sort of 
poison gas, and wanted to utilise his knowledge. I 
can’t remember how it happened — I was at school 
— but afterwards, it seemed they accused him of 
having stolen the formula or something like that, 
and — he was put in prison. I am sure he was inno¬ 
cent— father couldn’t steal! For years. Imagine 
it, my poor, gentle father in prison!” 

46 Wicked!” 

46 1 know they used the formula which was my 
father’s, themselves, and made a lot of money out 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


185 


of it. Some government took it up and used it dur¬ 
ing the war. And I know that just before they put 
him away he discovered this vessel containing poi¬ 
son in one of the mummy-cases he had brought 
over. Then — he came out. He had lost all his 
money, all his friends turned away from him, and 
my mother had just died. He was wretched that he 
could not get back to his experiments — he did not 
feel the disgrace. We struggled along, living as 
best we could for months — I went out sewing. 
Then the Silvertons heard of him and asked him 
to come and discuss something they had in mind. 
They offered to provide for him and for me, and 
in return he would have to make models in clay 
for them. They gave him a workshop and told him 
he could work at his experiments as much as he 
liked.” 

66 That pleased him, of course.” 

46 Of course: I shall never forget his delight. 
We have been here ever since — that is five years 
ago. I might have earned a living elsewhere — but 
I could not leave him, he depends so much on me. 
You see how miserable he has been because I was 
angry over Nelly’s death.” She ceased speaking, 
and sat with folded hands idly gazing into the fire. 

Morrison was profoundly affected by this 
recital of her troubles; but she had told him only 


186 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


half the story, he knew. He was aiming at the 
mark that the making of those models was only a 
blind on the part of the Silverton brothers, and that 
they were using the old professor’s knowledge as a 
bait for much bigger fish while trading on his 
obsession. Possibly she was unaware of that : — 
he hoped she was: but she had repeated nothing of 
her statement about the strange power the Silver- 
tons wielded over herself, and was seemingly una¬ 
ware that she had given that secret away under 
hypnotic suggestion from himself. 

66 Yes?” he prompted her. 66 He was very 
unhappy because you were cross with him. But he, 
does he want to stay here?” 

She smiled sadly. 46 Father is perfectly con¬ 
tent,” she said with a sigh, 44 and only too eager to be 
allowed to go on with his researches. He loves me 
in a certain way, but he cares really for nothing 
alive, only for his experiments and his beloved 
sculptures. It would kill him to have to go back to 
the world again. Besides, what would he do? He 
has no more idea of making a living for us both, 
even if he were not much too old, than that chair 
has. And I can never leave him, you see that. So 
we stay and stay.— Shall I light the lamp?” 

44 No, don’t move. The firelight’s pleasant, isn’t 


THE GHOST TRAIN 187 

it?” He stared into the red glow of the stove that 
stood in the grate. 

The story rang true enough, yet he was not 
quite satisfied. If she could tell him so much, why 
not more? But after all, he reflected, why should 
she? As a complete stranger to her, one who had 
descended literally out of the blue (or the grey!) 
and who had taken all from her hands and given 
nothing, it was a wonder that she had unburdened 
herself to him even so far as to tell him of the 
misfortune that had pursued her practically ever 
since her childhood, and the guileless, trusting old 
professor, her father. How little of happiness had 
come her way! All her young life had been spent 
at the mercy of an old scientist obsessed by a mad 
dream, and by probably unscrupulous men who 
seized on her simplicity, her faith and her queer 
mediumistic gifts to make her their tool. It was 
a damned shame, he thought hotly — she had had 
no youth, none of the pleasures of youth, and yet 
she was beautiful and desirable, and full of the 
grace and charm of a beautiful and desirable girl. 

Involuntarily, his intense longing to make her 
happy and to shower on her that affection she had 
missed translated itself into action, and he put his 
arm round her and drew her close to his breast. 


CHAPTER XIX 


Like a little grey dove nestling against her mate, 
Julia lay on his breast and made no movement to 
free herself, and no sound save a little sigh that 
escaped her lips. To Morrison’s enchanted senses 
it seemed a sigh of supreme content, of intense 
relief, as though she who so wearily had been bat¬ 
tling against the storm alone had found haven at 
last. 

It cost him a good deal of self-control to hold in 
leash his desire to bend and kiss her mouth, to press 
his lips to her hair, to murmur over and over again, 
66 Julia, I love you — let me take you away from all 
this, take you somewhere where we can be happy and 
alone together!” But again, the very thought that 
they were indeed, to all intents and purposes, alone 
together in that house but for the sick professor who 
lay asleep in his bedroom along the corridor, curbed 
his leaping pulses. She trusted him so absolutely, 
just as no doubt she had trusted those villainous 
Silvertons, and surely no one but the completest 
cad could have taken advantage of her simplicity. 
Why, it would be like hurting a child! 

But even though he wouldn’t let himself kiss her, 
188 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


189 


those moments were sacred and supremely happy 
ones for Morrison. For both of them, he believed — 
at least, he hoped. Julia must surely love him a 
little if she did not repulse him, even though that 
gentle embrace might seem to her more of a broth¬ 
erly than a loverly one. And yet, in that room 
lighted only by the red glow of the stove, and with 
no sound but the wind lashing the trees gently out 
in the deserted garden of the house of mystery, 
with a beautiful girl in his arms, with an old man 
who had poisoned himself for the sake of science 
lying ill on his bed not far away, with the return of 
the two brothers imminent, and with one of the most 
menacing plots the country had suffered on the verge 
of exposure — the stage already setting for the last 
act of the drama, indeed—that was surely a strange 
predicament for any man to be in, even for one 
whose daily work carried him into the very heart 
of strange events. 

Neither marked the passage of time — but 
presently it was Julia who broke up their little 
glimpse of heaven. She sat upright and looked 
straight into his eyes. Her own were happy and 
serene, free from the shadow that habitually dwelt 
in them, and beaming with a light he had never 
seen in them before. 

And then, once again, even as their eyes sought 


190 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


refuge the one in the other, the light of happiness 
faded from hers and died away, and something like 
panic took its place. 

44 You must go,” she breathed, and rose quickly 
and stood before him. 66 Don’t ask me anything — 
only — please go quickly.” 

66 But Julia! Why?” Then, as a sudden thought 
assailed him, 64 You are not afraid?” 

66 For you — only for you! Please!” she begged 
agitatedly. 46 1 should never have let you stay, I 
have been wrong — but go now while there is still 
time.” She wrung her hands, obviously labouring 
under the most urgent fear of something unknown 
to him. 

Morrison was at a complete loss to understand 
this sudden reversal of her former request. He 
tried to reason with her. 

44 Why Julia, only ten minutes ago you asked 
me to stay! Mrs. Barrett has left, and we are going 
to take turns to sit up with your father, you and 
I. That’s the plan, isn’t it? Nothing has happened 
to change it.” 

44 Something has,” Julia said in a low voice. 

A light broke in on him. 44 You mean- Oh, 

my dear!—not that?” He was afraid to finish the 
sentence, to ask what he so urgently wanted to know, 
whether she loved him. He, too, rose, and they faced 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


191 


each other. He would have taken her in his arms 
again, but suddenly she evaded him and lifted her 
hand with a gesture of warning. 

64 Hark! It’s my father — I must go, he’s call¬ 
ing. But oh, please,” she begged earnestly, 44 get 
ready to start at once.” 

44 But why — why?” 

She had slipped away already, gone like a 
wraith from his ken, and he was left puzzled and 
almost angry. 

Either her words were merely the outcome of a 
fear to be alone in the house with him now that he 
had virtually declared his love for her and asked 
hers in return, or they must mean that his presence 
there was dangerous either to her and her father, 
or to himself. She had said as much, indeed. Things 
were getting interesting, if that were so. Her words 
could only, he assumed, refer to the return of the 
Silvertons — what else could there be that would 
menace her safety? 

Limping up and down the room, he turned the 
matter over in his thoughts. Her sudden change of 
mind was disconcerting, for if there were danger, 
she must have known of it all along and have been 
willing to let him face it. Until — his heart leaped 
at the thought — until perhaps she realised she 
really did care for him a little, while his arms had 


192 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


been about her a few moments ago? It was a solu¬ 
tion of the problem he hardly dared to tell himself 
was a probable one. And yet he could think of no 
other satisfactory conclusion except the first one 
he had come to, that she was afraid of him. 

He smiled at that. She didn’t know him, how 
could she, and his almost puritanical regard for 
women. He would soon reassure her if that were 
all. Perhaps he had been premature, perhaps she 
was not ready for love; he would be very careful not 
to frighten her again. In any case he had no inten¬ 
tion of obeying her wishes and clearing out. The 
very fact of her disclosure of the possibility of 
danger would make him all the more determined to 
stay; it might mean that some development was on 
foot; and in any case, if there were danger, he had 
no intention of abandoning her to it. Poor kid, she 
wasn’t used to having any one look after her. 

Julia’s voice came to him through the open 
door, soothing the old professor in his room. Her 
unselfishness, the way she sacrificed herself for 
others, warmed him through and through. 

On more than one occasion he had wondered if 
she really had recognised him as the detective of 
the Cologne studio, in spite of the thin disguise of 
the dark glasses and the little black moustache. She 
had caught him off his guard about those spectacles, 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


193 


once — had twitted him with the fact that she had 
never seen him without them! Still, he did not 
believe it. At Cologne, she had been too distressed 
and panicked, probably, to take any stock of his gen¬ 
eral appearance during those few minutes together 
— or, of course, on the other hand, everything might 
have stamped itself all too clearly on her memory. 

Of one thing he felt certain — she had not recog¬ 
nised him when he first came to this house in the 
valley. She was too transparent to have dissembled 
then; and even if she hadn’t been he would undoubt¬ 
edly have spotted it. That remark about the glasses 
might have been made by anybody — it wasn’t 
usual to come upon people attired in smoked spec¬ 
tacles when you brought in their breakfast of a 
morning! Especially on dark winter mornings be¬ 
fore the curtains were drawn. It was a foolish 
disguise under the circumstances, though good 
enough for ordinary purposes; and, of course, he 
had hardly been prepared at the outset for the quite 
extraordinary uses to which it had had to be put. 

There hadn’t even been the excuse of the morn¬ 
ing paper for those glasses, he smiled to think, 
because that didn’t arrive till Mrs. Barrett, the red¬ 
faced woman of the shop down by the jetty, and 
Julia’s charwoman, brought it, which was at any 
hour of the day, as he now knew, that the tide served 


194 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


for her walk along the rocky shore to the tunnel. 

Remembrance of that caused his thoughts to 
switch off for a moment to the newspaper Jackson 
had thrust upon him that afternoon and he pulled it 
out of his pocket and opened it idly, still brooding 
over the problem. 

Not for worlds would he have lighted the lamp 
to read that wretched paragraph — those rosy 
moments alone with Julia in his arms were too near 
and too precious to want to dispel them — and she 
would come back directly. He knelt on the hearth¬ 
rug before the stove and opened the pages idly, 
turning them over till he came to a paragraph Jack- 
son had marked in heavy black pencil which out¬ 
lined a couple of inches or so of type down in the 
corner of a column of local titbits headed “ The 
Gossip’s Bowl” and read: 

46 Rumour has it that the fabled 6 ghost train ’ 
that keeps the heads of the few residents of a sea- 
coast hamlet not a hundred miles from our town 
tucked well under their respective blankets o’ nights 
has been heard again. Not seen, because no one 
sees the phantom visitant and lives. A few weeks 
ago a tramp met his death in a suspicious manner 
in the railway waiting-room of the remote station 
through which the train is said to pass once a month. 
The mystery is heightened by the disappearance 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


195 


from one of our hotels of a commercial traveller 
who borrowed a bicycle from the ‘boots ’ and then 
discarded it on a stretch of lonely cliff road not 
far from this station of ill-fame. The machine was, 
happily, recognised and returned to its owner by a 
friend of the lender who chanced to be cycling 
along the road — but the disappearance of the 
borrower appears to be complete. 

“ Our police force is a pretty active one, but 
we were met on inquiry with the usual 6 we-have- 
the-matter-in-hand ’ attitude, and with the usual 
scepticism on the 6 ghost train’s ’ account. This 
legend has persisted for twenty years in our neigh¬ 
bourhood, however, and we recommend our worthy 
Superintendent to a fuller investigation of the whole 
matter. Inquiry at the hotel this morning proved 
that nothing had been heard of the missing man.” 

Morrison’s first reaction to the reading of those 
paragraphs was a most emphatic and wholehearted 
disgust at the methods of the police in allowing such 
a statement to be made public. He damned them 
unreservedly for a full half minute. Why, that silly 
little bit of gossip might have the effect of ruining 
the whole of his calculations and spoil the gradual 
building-up of the plan he had been evolving during 
weeks! It would draw attention to the place, even 
though no name were mentioned, and bring hordes 


196 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


of curious people to the station, all agog to find out 
something of the mystery; he knew only too well 
that craving in human nature after the morbid and 
sinister that was always demanding satisfaction. 

Reading the paragraph again, however, he 
wasn’t so sure. People were not particularly inter¬ 
ested in tramps and commercial travellers, both the 
dullest of dull folk, especially the latter. If the vic¬ 
tims had been dukes, now, or even simple knights, 
the thing would have been different. And the legend 
was nothing new — the local residents must be used 
to it by this time, and if they had not already be¬ 
stirred themselves to fathom it, the disappearance 
of a commercial traveller (in patent foods, too!) 
would hardly be inducement enough to make them 
want to do so now. 

On the whole, he was not sure whether a good 
turn hadn’t been done to the cause — it might have 
the effect of keeping frightened heads still more 
securely tucked 66 under their blankets o’ nights.” 

Perhaps, after all, old Jackson had had a finger 
in that pie! It wouldn’t surprise him. He ended the 
matter by broadly grinning at the printed page in 
the firelight; and Julia caught something very like 
a smothered laugh as she came into the room carry¬ 
ing the tea-tray. 

She looked at him in silent amazement, reproach- 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


197 


fully; and in self-defence (there was little enough 
for her to laugh at, poor girl!) he got to his feet to 
assist her and held out the newspaper to her, with the 
apologetic remark: 

66 1 was reading rather an amusing little para¬ 
graph there, about your ghost train, Julia; you’re 
getting quite famous,” and watched her closely to 
see the effect of the words. 

She put the tray down slowly, and took the paper 
from his hand as if it might burn her, and all the 
while her eyes were fastened on his as if she were 
afraid something would frighten her again — afraid 
of fear. Morrison, setting cups on the little table 
near the window in the way he had often watched 
her do it — perhaps it was the last time they would 
have tea together — and waiting for her to speak, 
recalled her panic when the subject of the legend 
had cropped up before. 

Julia put the paper down now, however, without 
betraying any more emotion than a slight trembling 
of the hands; but her low reply, 66 Perhaps it is 
amusing — to you,” told him that none of the argu¬ 
ments he had put forward then had assailed her 
rooted belief in the phantom appearance. 

Her mind now was obviously preoccupied with 
the matter as they drank tea when she had brewed 
it from the kettle on the stove; and suddenly she 


198 THE GHOST TRAIN 

put her cup down with a rattle on its saucer and 
burst out: 

64 Mr. Gascoigne—please! If you have any 
regard for my wishes, will you go away from this 
place, now! Go back to Truro!” 

66 No, Julia.” He faced her squarely. 44 I’m 
hanged if I do. If there’s a likelihood of any 
monkey-puzzling, I’m staying here to see it through. 
Besides, you forget. How am I to get to Truro? 
You were going to telephone to the hotel, you know. 
I can hardly expect this foolish leg to carry me all 
the way, can I?” 

44 There’s the station,” she replied faintly. 44 1 
could show you the short way — help you to get 
there. There must be a train — even if you have to 
wait — the last one goes at seven. You would be 
better there than here.” 

44 1 might,” he replied. 44 But I won’t. Once for 
all, Julia, my dear, I am going to stay with you here 
until you can get some one else to keep you com¬ 
pany — till Mrs. Barrett comes, if you like — until 
your father is better. Or until-” he paused. 

44 Until-?” 

She leaned forward across the table eagerly. 

44 Until,” Morrison went on deliberately, 44 that 
happens which you and I are expecting to happen.” 

44 And what is that?” she breathed. 




THE GHOST TRAIN 199 

He shrugged his shoulders. 66 You know as much 
as I do about that, Julia.” 

She paused before saying, 66 Then, you are quite 
determined?” 

“ Quite.” 

She said no more. They sat in silence for ten 
minutes or so, then she rose and began to put the 
tea-things together. Apparently she had accepted 
his decision to remain, and shrunk from pursuing 
the conversation further for fear of disclosing the 
secret, whatever it was, that weighed so heavily on 
her. 

“ Would you take that tray,” she requested, 
46 and carry it to the kitchen.” 

He smiled, pleased that she had asked him to 
do something, however trivial, to assist her, and 
taking the tray from her hands proceeded to hobble 
away with it, while Julia looked after him with an 
expression of despair that seemed unnecessarily 
hopeless in view of the triviality of the office. 

When he pushed open the door of the little 
kitchen along the corridor, he found himself face 
to face with the red-faced charwoman, Mrs. Barrett. 


CHAPTER XX 


Morrison stumped back to the sitting-room with 
a frown on his face. 

It was the second or third time that he had caught 
Julia in a lie, and his mouth was set in a very deter¬ 
mined line as he faced her in the firelight. Was 
it impossible for the girl to go straight? Lovely as 
she was, innocent as his whole being cried out she 
must be, yet with those damning lies to her discredit, 
he felt he could not remain a moment longer in the 
grip of this hideous tangle of plot and counterplot. 
It was a little matter, of course, her tale that Mrs. 
Barrett was unable to stay, and then his finding her 
there all the time in the kitchen, but it was this accu¬ 
mulation of little things that made it so distressingly 
difficult to see ahead, and to plan his campaign with 
any certainty. Why trouble to fib about so unim¬ 
portant a thing? What the dickens did it matter 
whether the woman remained or not? 

He stopped a few paces in the room and looked 
straightly at the girl. 

66 Mrs. Barrett didn’t go after all, then?” he 
said bluntly. 

“ No?” she murmured, but he thought she 
200 


THE GHOST TRAIN 201 

drooped a little, though she met his glance bravely 
enough. 66 1 thought-” 

44 You knew she didn’t,” he cut in, now thor¬ 
oughly roused. Once more, was this girl fooling 
him? 44 Why was it necessary to lie to me, Julia? 
What other reason had you for asking me to stay? 
Why make Mrs. Barrett’s departure the excuse, if 
she wasn’t going after all? What was the real 
reason?” 

64 1 can’t tell you,” Julia cried desperately, as 
if his anger had evoked some answeringly over¬ 
powering emotion in her own breast. 44 1 have 
begged you to go since, and you have refused. 

You-” She stopped all at once and whirled 

round towards the window. 

Morrison had seen it too — the flickering flash 
of a light in the darkness, that came and went and 
came again, stabbing at the blackness of the window 
like a great torch, or the come-and-go of summer 
lightning. And instantly he recognised it for what 
it was — the headlight of a car that was coming 
slowly down the tangled-over drive, a light cut off* 
now and then by the trunks of trees or masses of 
evergreens in alternating darkness and brilliancy. 
Then came the honk of the horn, and Julia gave a 
little shriek of alarm and put her hand to her mouth. 

44 Now — it is too late,” she cried wildly. 44 Oh, 




202 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


go, go! They are coming!” She fled out into the 
corridor and was back in a moment with his raincoat 
and hat in her hands. 66 1 beg you, go,” she implored, 
thrusting them into his hands. 44 Take this stick of 
father’s-” 

But Morrison stood immovable, a cynical smile 
twisting his lips. 66 I’d like to see the end of this 
comedy,” he remarked. 66 To know just what you’re 
up to.” 

The noise of the car’s engine was now plainly 
audible. 

64 Comedy?” she echoed. 44 If you only knew 
just what a tragedy it will be for me if you 
stay!” 

He looked at her steadily for an appreciable 
second. Something in the appeal of those grey eyes, 
once again, clouded with an agony the cause of which 
he was striving to fathom, some queer trick of the 
heart that refused in spite of himself to harden 
against her, caused the breaking of the barricade. 
He shrugged his shoulders. Those misty grey eyes 
had won again. 

44 All right, Julia. I’ll go.” 

He got into his coat. 

44 This way then — and quick!” 

She flitted before him out into the corridor and 
opened the door to the garden, casting back a glance 



THE GHOST TRAIN 203 

that begged him to hurry. Nevertheless, on the 
threshold he hesitated a second. 

66 Julia, I hate leaving you like this! Why not 
let me stay? I could help perhaps.” 

“ No, no — for my sake!” 

He bent and kissed her forehead. “ Good-bye, 
then. We shall meet again.” 

66 The tide’s not up yet,” she whispered hur¬ 
riedly. 66 But there’s no time to lose. Through the 
tunnel, quick, and — good-bye.” 

He stepped down into the misty garden among 
dripping trees that were dark and damp with Novem¬ 
ber rain. The door closed softly behind him. Even 
as it did so the car swung at a slow pace round 
the bend of the drive into the circle of gravel 
that fronted the house and two men, one the driver, 
alighted, wrapped in leathern coats and muffled to 
the chin. 

That little pause at the threshold of the door 
had been exactly calculated to serve the detective’s 
purpose, for he had determined, come what may, 
not to leave the house until he had caught a glimpse 
of the mysterious inhabitants of the luxurious up¬ 
stairs chambers. In the brilliant light cast by the 
electric lamps, the two faces showed up vividly 
above their wrappings, and Morrison’s alert eyes 
took in every detail. The reaction was such that he 


204 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


uttered a startled ejaculation and involuntarily 
edged closer against the cover of the wall, a move¬ 
ment that was badly manoeuvred, because his game 
leg slipped on the gravel and for a second’s fraction 
brought his own face within the glare of the lamps. 

It was enough. That they had seen him he was 
not left long in doubt. And then things began to 
happen quickly. There were muttered curses, the 
sound of steps crunching the gravel, and the next 
instant a bullet whizzed within an ace of his cheek. 
Morrison leaped rather than ran towards the 
entrance to the tunnel blockaded with its trailing 
strands of winter greenery, using the old man’s 
stick as a sort of alpenstock. Stumbling, slipping, 
swiftly enough in spite of his disability, he gained 
the darkness of the cave. 

But his pursuers were close on his heels and to 
enter it would be madness. He could expect no 
mercy at the hands of the two, for he had recognised 
them and he knew they would not stop short of 
murder — and in that tunnel they would be fools 
indeed if they failed to put him satisfactorily out 
of the way and leave not a trace of the crime. 

At its very mouth he swerved briskly to one 
side and stood taut against the rock — felt their 
clothes almost brush past him as they ran full tilt 
into the darkness of it, firing shot after shot. He 


THE GHOST TRAIN 205 

laughed a little noiseless laugh at the excitement 
and the adventure of it. 

He heard their hurried footsteps retreating to 
the extreme end of the tunnel — no doubt they knew 
every step of it blindfold — and wedged himself 
further in among the sodden leaves, taking advan¬ 
tage of the pause to whip off and pocket his obstruct¬ 
ing glasses. They would doubtless make a search 
of the garden on their return, unless, as he hoped 
and was quite possible, they would believe he had 
had enough start to get clear of the tunnel and hide 
himself among the rocks of the seashore, as he 
would have if it hadn’t been for that infernal foot. 
He waited, scarcely daring to breathe. 

It seemed an incredibly long time before he 
heard the sound of returning footsteps; but they 
came at last and, muttering in low voices, the two 
men miraculously passed him and went towards the 
house without a pause. Yes, they had supposed him 
hidden and had given up the search as a bad job. 
He could see their dark outlines shadowly printed 
in the surrounding gloom for a second, and listened 
intently till the crunching on the gravel ceased as 
they turned the corner of the house again. Luckily, 
neither of the two appeared to have a torch upon 
him. 

For that matter, Morrison hadn’t a torch either, 


206 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


and if he had he would have been afraid to use it 
in the difficult negotiation of that smugglers’ cave he 
now ventured upon. It was far too near the house, 
and he had, of course, no idea of what sort of obser¬ 
vation posts the two calling themselves the Silverton 
brothers kept, nor, having aroused them from their 
dream of security, what means they had of imme¬ 
diate flight. But, judging by the inhospitable way 
a stranger about the premises had been received, 
he assumed there was very good reason to sup¬ 
pose this particular moment was an important one 
in these carryings-on. 

A faint luminosity within the circle that was the 
tunnel’s exit told him that he was nearing the shore; 
and now the sound of the surf came suddenly to him 
as the horizon opened, grey and distant. Out here, 
it was lighter a good deal than it had been in the 
hollow behind the quarries, where full light could 
never penetrate. The shore stretched away on his 
left hand, strewn with huge boulders, and backed 
by the high cliffs, while on his right a barricade of 
rock reached out to the sea and blocked progression 
in that direction, all scarcely visible in the winter 
darkness. The rain fell softly. He could hear it 
sizzling in the little pools he tried to avoid; but the 
wind seemed to be getting up, and he hoped the rain 
would cease soon, chiefly because — he remembered 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


207 


it with a wry grin as he splashed into a pool in the 
dark — he was still wearing the old professor’s 
bedroom slippers. 


CHAPTER XXI 


Morrison put in a good twenty minutes’ breath¬ 
less scrambling over rocks, getting wet to the knees 
in cold and unexpected pools, wading through slushy 
sand and barking his shins before he judged it safe 
to pause and take stock of the situation. It was 
awkward going with that cumbersome left foot, 
which was by no means fit to stand him good service 
in such a test. Still, he had made fairly good prog¬ 
ress and the odds were, he believed, in his favour, 
if the two brothers should decide to make further 
pursuit. The rocky coast afforded a first class game 
of hide and seek and it would take them all their 
time to locate a man on his guard against discovery. 

On that score he felt safe enough. The thing that 
really worried him was the fact that he had left Julia 
in that house of mystery alone with two unscrupu¬ 
lous villains like the Silvertons. A few minutes 
before he had made his escape from the house she 
had succeeded in shattering once again the belief 
in her he had been so laboriously trying to build 
up against his better judgement during his weeks in 
her company. Pendulum-wise, that belief in her 
truthfulness and sincerity had swung back and forth, 
208 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


209 


alternating between scepticism of her motives and 
an intense desire to hold her in his thoughts as 
sinned against but not sinning. He thought he had 
succeeded in that, and now again at the very last 
moment, it appeared she was incapable of dealing 
straightly. But for that little fib about Mrs. Bar¬ 
rett (such a small thing, but so vital to his peace of 
mind), he knew he would have remained at the 
house to meet the Silvertons and either bluff the 
thing out or take whatever consequences might have 
ensued. He would have over-ridden her objections 
and her pretended concern on his behalf — and here 
his mouth set in grim lines as he thought of her 
duplicity. 

Now the only thing left for him to do was to 
rid himself as soon as possible of every vestige of 
feeling for her. 

He settled himself on a piece of jutting rock 
against the cliff wall and considered matters in their 
more immediate aspect, deliberately shutting his 
mind to thought of the girl. 

It must be, he judged, getting on for seven 
o’clock. They had had tea, he and Julia, late that 
afternoon, following the doctor’s visit. Sweeping 
a glance round to make sure as possible that there 
was no one in his immediate neighbourhood, he 
struck a match in cupped fingers, and by its light 


210 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


made out the hands of his wrist watch. Yes, about 
eight minutes to seven. The last train for Truro left 
at seven — as far as he could see he was faced with 
the cheerful prospect of spending the night literally 
on the rocks. There would probably be no one after 
the seven o’clock train at the little station of Fal 
Yale, which, doubtless, as was the way of remote 
country stations, would be bolted and barred till 
the first morning train — and even under the best 
of circumstances and with two sound limbs there 
would scarcely be a chance of sprinting to the rail¬ 
way in eight minutes, along that rock-strewn shore. 

He had plenty of time for reflection, then. The 
tide looked as though it had still a long way to 
climb over the sand and rock before he need bestir 
himself. At the same time it wouldn’t do to leave it 
too late with an unknown bit of coast, and that pos¬ 
sibly a treacherous one. The horizon showed a 
faintly grey glimmer, a mere thin silvery band 
along the skyline. Mounds of black rock inter¬ 
rupted his view of it here and there, like a menag¬ 
erie of sinister beasts let loose. The dull murmur 
of the waves breaking, away off, might almost be 
their growling. The rain, fortunately, fell now only 
in a slight drizzle, and the cliff behind him gave a 
certain amount of protection. He would have been 
fairly comfortable, indeed, but for an aching foot, 


THE GHOST TRAIN 211 

if he could have lighted his pipe. But that was too 
dangerous yet. 

What, he wondered, would the Chief have done 
under similar circumstances? But then, the Chief 
would never have allowed himself and his feelings 
to come under the dominion of a beautiful girl 
criminal with misty grey eyes — 66 Doesn’t do to 
have feelings where women of that sort are con¬ 
cerned. Take my advice, young feller, cut ’em out.” 
He could remember the very inflection of voice the 
Chief had used in delivering himself of that sound 
piece of instruction, early in the whole affair. He 
drew in a sharp breath. In spite of it all he was up 
to the neck and over in love with Julia. 

Then he pulled himself up with a jerk. Hadn’t 
he decided to cast her out of his mind? Hadn’t that 
last interview with her taught him his lesson, yet? 
Was he willing to make a still bigger fool of him¬ 
self? No, a hundred times no! He had done with 
her — with all women. He would cut them out. 
He’d take the Chief’s words for Gospel. 

Well, then, having disposed of the girl — so he 
told himself resolutely — what should be the next 
step? 

66 The next step, old son, is a very literal one. 
You’d better foot it to the jetty and get along to the 
station as quickly as you can. The middle of a 


212 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


stretch of unknown, deserted and rock-bound coast, 
on a winter’s night and a cold and rainy one at that, 
with the tide coming up, is hardly the place to hesi¬ 
tate about what to do next, or to make your lovesick 
repinings over-” 

He got up, somewhat stiffly, and limped on. 
Lucky he had the old fellow’s stick. It helped him 
greatly in the mushy sand and enabled him to detect 
the hidden masses of rock that cropped up every¬ 
where among it. He had to feel his way for a con¬ 
siderable distance without the aid of matches, for 
he felt it unwise to risk a light, even in that deserted 
and lonely place. It was astonishing how far a little 
flame of a single match threw its beam, and at what 
a distance it could be seen. 

Everything, he felt, depended now on himself. 
Jackson would have carried out his instructions and 
put an invisible guard at the salient points, but 
neither Jackson nor any other living soul outside 
the radius of the plot itself knew what he knew, and 
what he had discovered in that underground work¬ 
shop of the old professor. 

Therefore, it behooved him to be scrupulously 
careful about the least thing; even about such a 
little thing as striking a match on the dark and dere¬ 
lict shore to aid him in his difficult way, or, more 
necessary, to allow him the satisfaction of the friend- 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


213 


ship of his pipe. How good that pipe would be 
presently! And, by Jove, a good drink of beer — 
such a drink as he and poor Heath had enjoyed in 
the hotel at Cologne, just before he got back to 
London, the last time he had seen Heath alive. 

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he scarcely 
noticed that the booming noise of the sea was in¬ 
creasing momentarily, and it was not till a sudden 
gleam of white foam slid almost to his feet as it 
fled round a jutting rock and crawled back again 
stealthily, that he was startled into knowledge that 
the tide was coming up very quickly indeed. He 
must put his best foot foremost, he decided, which 
was a proceeding not so easy as it might have been, 
taking all things into consideration: his slippers, 
for instance, or, rather, the Professor’s — the thin 
leather soles were as soft and sloppy as a sheet of 
wet brown paper, the uppers were sodden; his hat 
was dripping water down the back of his neck, his 
raincoat flapped damply about him. 

Altogether, the adventure seemed to have lost a 
good deal of its zest; but still he struggled on, tak¬ 
ing some slight comfort in the thought that the next 
few days — possibly the next few hours — would 
either see the end of the affair or else the whole 
fabric of his calculations would come tumbling down 
like a pack of cards. In which case, 44 I’ll become a 


214 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


traveller in patent foods,” he told himself cynically. 

Away ahead, he could just make out dimly the 
straggling shape of the little jetty, curving towards 
him like a hooked finger, a slightly darker shadow 
in the prevailing greyness. Beyond it, he knew, 
were the cottages, and then a little farther on, the 
station. And just then he heard the faint, sharp 
whistle of a train. It was the seven o’clock, five 
minutes or so late, leaving the platform — the last 
train to Truro. Of course, he had had no hope of 
catching it, but it left him with rather a lost feeling 
nevertheless. 

Where the dickens should he spend the night? 
There were the cottages, it was true, but he would 
have to avoid the neighbourhood of the natives till 
the final denouement of the piece. It was essential 
that his whereabouts should not be known, or any 
suspicion aroused, even if the Silvertons were not 
already on his track. Nothing could be easier than 
to circumlocute his movements — they had only to 
take the road by car to cut him off as it was. There 
was no chance of being picked up by a passing 
vehicle, of course. No, better to spend the night 
among the rocks on the shore than run that risk. 

But the tide was getting unpleasantly high. It 
was creeping up at a great rate, and in a short time 


THE GHOST TRAIN 215 

the water would be almost at the base of the cliffs 
along the edge of which he crawled. 

And then, quite suddenly, Morrison became 
aware of a flickering lightning in the darkness be¬ 
hind him. He swung round hastily. Yes, there could 
be no mistaking it — no doubt as to what those quick 
flashes in long rays across the sea from a powerful 
light meant. Some one was signalling. Three 
flashes, then blackness — three more in quick suc¬ 
cession, and again the dark. 

After a moment of blank surprise he turned and 
hurried on. Amid the seething stir of the encircling 
waters that seemed now to be trying to cut off his 
approach to the jetty which he could see a hundred 
yards ahead, the thought raced through his brain: 
Had they got wind of the fact that their plot was on 
the point of revelation, and were they giving a 
warning of his flight? If so, how had they become 
possessed of the information? Whose had been the 
slip, whose the treachery that had given the game 
away? There leaped to his brain one name — Julia! 
He refused to give it house-room! Julia! But that 
would mean that she had recognised him and had 
known all the time. No, he would never believe 
that of her, never! 

Dizzily he floundered on through the rising 
waters which, by this time, were flooding round his 


216 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


ankles and surging higher with each succeeding 
wave to his knees, his waist. It swirled and thun¬ 
dered about him; every returning wash of the cold 
water more imperatively bent on securing its prey 
than the last. He was almost exhausted when, after 
an interminable period of struggling, he felt, to his 
intense relief, the hard stone steps of the jetty. He 
breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. One step — 
one, two, three — how incredibly difficult it was to 
clamber up against the seething snatch of the waters 
below that tried to drag him back to them again — 
four — five — how heavy and tired his limbs were! 
and a dark figure bending over him, seizing him, 
hauling him to the top. 


CHAPTER XXII 


He lay on the cold slab of stone and for a 
moment remembered nothing but that somehow he 
had managed to get out of the reach of the waters’ 
grasp. He found himself muttering Jackson’s name; 
then, complete consciousness returning, sat up and 
looked at his rescuer. For a moment he thought it 
was one of the Silvertons; then Morrison recognised 
him as a policeman he had seen in Fuller’s office at 
the Truro police-station weeks ago. He was in plain 
clothes now. 

66 I’m Morrison,” he said vaguely, hoping much 
explanation was not needed, 44 from Scotland Yard. 
Is Jackson anywhere within reach?” 

46 He’s up on the cliff, sir.” The plain clothes 
man had recognised the other also by good for¬ 
tune, and saluted respectfully. 

44 Fine. Can you get him to come down here for 
a moment, do you think?” 

44 Yes, sir.” He was off into the darkness, and 
Morrison waited as cheerfully as a being soaked 
to the skin, cold to the marrow of his bones, and 
bruised more or less all over, could. He was in¬ 
tensely thankful to learn of Jackson’s presence — 
217 


218 THE GHOST TRAIN 

whatever that might betoken. Something unusual, 
obviously. 

Jackson himself enlightened him five minutes 
later. 

66 An unexpected surprise, seeing you, sir! 
Thought you was safely tucked up down below, 
there.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the 
house hidden below the quarry. 66 Anything I can 
do for you?” 

66 A great deal, Jackson. But first, what are you 
doing here yourself?” 

They talked in low voices, scarcely above a cau¬ 
tious whisper. 

64 Accordin’ to instructions received, sir, I de¬ 
tailed my men at the various points indicated,” 
Jackson remarked ponderously. 44 And then, from 
the cliff road up there, I saw some rather funny 
stuff going on — at least it looked that way to 
me. Lights flashin’— signallin’. Looked as though 
some one was sendin’ a message out to sea, sir. So 
I came down along the cliff to see if I could make 
out what it was.” 

44 Ah! I saw it too, from the shore. Lucky find¬ 
ing you, Jackson — you’re always where I want 
you, old bean.” 

Jackson grinned with pleasure at the praise, roll¬ 
ing his round eyes. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


219 


“ Try to be, sir — you’re very wet, Cap’n. Bet¬ 
ter put on my coat.” And the good fellow proceeded 
to peel off his own heavy mackintosh. Morrison 
stopped him with a gesture of his hand. 

66 Wet! I should think I am. I’ve been wading 
over these darned rocks for the last half hour, and 
the tide caught me. But you’d have to give me your 
trousers and your shirt and everything else too — 
especially your boots. I started out in a pair of 
the old professor chap’s indoor slippers — I’ve lost 
one, I see.” He squeezed off the other, and held 
up the dripping mass of pulp. 66 Hardly the best 
kind of footgear for scrambling over rocks in the 
rain, Jackson. You must get me back to Truro 
somehow. Any of your men got cycles?” 

66 Most of ’em, sir.” 

66 Send one back as quickly as possible for a 
car. I couldn’t face a ten-mile bicycle ride to-night, 
Jackson, in one wet slipper and a groggy leg. Be¬ 
sides, I want to talk to you.” 

66 Right. Newton!” He beckoned to the plain 
clothes man, and gave him directions. 

66 And now, Jackson, if you really love me, 
you’ll give me a pipeful of baccy. Let’s get well 
under that cliff in the shelter, and keep your eye 
skinned. Ah! That tastes good, Jackson. Light up 
yourself.” 


220 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Morrison puffed in enjoyment for a few moments 
before speaking again. 

66 Wonderful how a pipe puts a different com¬ 
plexion on the most worrying sort of matters, 
Jackson?” 

66 Yes — but you’ll catch your death sitting 
about in them wet clothes. Better keep moving, sir.” 

“ Wet clothes be hanged. I’ve had enough exer¬ 
cise to last me the rest of the evening. You forget 
I’ve been a regular invalid for nearly a month. 
You think, then, that was a signal to a ship in the 
bay, Jackson?” 

66 What else could it ’a’ been, sir?” 

66 It didn’t strike you our little game might have 
been spotted, and that it’s anything to do with us, 
then?” 

Jackson scratched his head. 66 1 confess it didn’t. 
No one knew we were on the track of anything — 
if we are.” 

66 We are, all right,” Morrison assured him with 
conviction. 66 Who put that little paragraph in the 
paper, do you think?” he went off at a tangent. 

66 Yes, that was a bit of a puzzler, wasn’t it, sir?” 

Morrison looked at him sideways, but Jackson 
was staring innocently out at the black waste of 
sea beyond the end of the little jetty. 

66 Wasn’t it? Well, Jackson, I’ve been chased 


THE GHOST TRAIN 221 

out of that house by the two Silvertons to-night. 
They fired after me and missed.” 

66 The deuce they did!” Jackson twisted round 
to stare at his chief. 66 So you think they’re wise as 
to your identity?” 

Morrison shook his head, 44 I’m not so sure of 
that, but I think with the dangerous game they’re 
playing they’d be suspicious of the archangel 
Gabriel. Anyhow, we’ve got to assume they’re in 
the know. Now, what’s the line they’re likely to 
take, Jackson?” 

44 Lie low for a bit, I should think,” Jackson 
opined after a pause, 44 till it’s blown over.” 

44 Just my idea. I am inclined to think that 
there will be nothing doing to-night. In fact, I’m 
banking on it. But, all the same, they won’t be able 
to wait too long for the culmination of their thieves’ 
game, Jackson.” 

44 No!” Jackson agreed guilefully. He was com¬ 
pletely mystified, but he tried not to let it appear. 

44 Do you know why? No, I see you don’t.” 

Morrison took the pipe from his mouth, and 
knocked the ashes softly out on the ground beside 
him. 

44 The reason is that it’s exactly a month to-mor¬ 
row since Heath was killed. The twenty-ninth of 
October was the day, Jackson. And it was that 


222 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


day — just a month ago to-morrow — that this 
alleged gliost train made its last journey, so the 
station master told me. It’s supposed to run once a 
month, you know, Jackson.” 

66 Oh, the ghost train!” Jackson’s keen disap¬ 
pointment was evident in his tone. He had expected 
something more tangible than a ghost. 66 1 didn’t 
know you took that old tale seriously, sir. Anyhow, 
I don’t see what it’s got to do with the whole affair.” 

66 Don’t you? Well, perhaps I am wrong, Jack- 
son. Perhaps it hasn’t anything. Anyhow, we’ll see 
— to-morrow. Come, let’s walk a bit now, I’m get¬ 
ting as stiff as a plank. Thanks,” as Jackson offered 
him an arm and helped him to his feet. 66 Yes, I 
may be wrong,” he repeated reflectively, 66 and there¬ 
fore we won’t discuss it further, in case you’ll have 
the laugh of me. We’ll see — to-morrow.” 

They strolled up and down under the shadow 
of the low cliff in silence. The ground here was 
soft and had been protected from the rain by the 
overhanging rock, and Morrison experienced little 
inconvenience from his bootless condition. 

His plan of action now seemed clear to him, but 
he was not desirous of talking about it to his assist¬ 
ant. After all, so much of it was based on pure con¬ 
jecture, and though in his own mind he had little 
doubt that he was right, there was nothing to be 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


223 


gained by laying himself open to the charge of fol¬ 
lowing a will o’ the wisp. Jackson’s business, after 
all, was to carry out his instructions. 66 Never tell 
your dream.” So he smoked in a more or less con¬ 
tented silence, walking side by side with Jackson 
up and down the stretch of Jdack shadow under the 
cliff road, waiting till the policeman should return 
with the car to take him back to the Truro hotel. 

Scarcely more than an hour had passed since 
he had left the house in the valley that sheltered 
the woman he loved and would always love in spite 
of everything; and yet it seemed now as though the 
time he had spent there was already far past, a 
dream, or even a figment of the brain that had had 
no reality. Whenever he allowed himself to dwell on 
Julia — and always he tried hard to blot her out of 
his thoughts as soon as she entered them — it was 
with an uneasiness that amounted to pain. 

There she was in that secreted place alone with 
her sick father, who had committed the incredible 
act of experimenting on himself for the sake of 
science, and with the Silvertons — at their mercy 
— and God knew of what they were capable. He 
tried to shake himself free of the thought. Per¬ 
haps he was exaggerating; no doubt they treated 
her with every respect apart from the influence she 
had told him they exercised over her. But then, was 


224 THE GHOST TRAIN 

she to be trusted to have told him the truth? A 
woman capable of lying in small things might also 
deceive him in important matters — and how easily 
he had been hoodwinked, he whose business it was 
to unmask the deceits of humanity. 

Not for the first time Morrison breathed a sigh 
of relief at the thought that he was undertaking this 
queer bit of business more or less in an unofficial 
capacity. He was, on the Chief’s advice, taking a 
little holiday, a rest, and he had chosen to take it in 
Cornwall. It was really his own business — this 
investigation of the death of his friend Heath—that 
had started the whole thing, even if the Chief had 
let him have some men to help him and given him 
carte blanche — more as compensation than any¬ 
thing. Queer how far from the original point the 
affair had carried him — queer how much farther 
it was likely to carry him if all his conjectures fitted 
in — how it might change all his life. 

Presently the soft hum of an engine on the road 
above roused the unofficial detective from his mus- 
ings into the immediate present. How jolly glad he 
would be to get out of these wet things and into a 
warm bath, and a change! 

Five minutes later they had climbed the steep 
bit of road from the granite jetty to the cliff-top and 


THE GHOST TRAIN 225 

he was ready to get into the car and leave Jackson 
in charge of the business — till to-morrow. 

66 Till to-morrow, Jackson. And if-” 

Even as he spoke, distantly across the shore and 
the black pit of heaving waters, a light flashed out 
again — the same light that he had seen when he was 
struggling along on the rocky coast below, and that 
had, by good fortune, brought Jackson to his aid. 
It flashed once, twice, thrice — and now for a single 
second of time its bright beam picked out and held 
vividly in its ray a boat that was lying a mile or 
so out in the bay — a tramp steamer by the look of 
her, small and motionless. 

Then the flash disappeared, and the little vessel 
was swallowed up once more in the darkness. Not a 
light twinkled. Nothing below but that huge black 
pit that was the ocean, and immediately beneath 
them the thinly blacker line telling where the jetty 
ran its crooked limb out into the water. 

Morrison, one foot on the running board of the 
car, turned to look at Jackson. For a moment neither 
spoke. At length Morrison remarked: 

66 Looks as though you were right, Jackson. 
Some one’s signalling that boat. Keep a close watch 
and inform me of any movement.” He was silent 
again, lost in deep thought as if contemplating some 



226 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


change of movement. Then he said, as if to him¬ 
self, 64 No, let it go according to plan. Righto, I’m 
ready. There’ll be more rejoicing over the one com¬ 
mercial traveller returning than over the ninety 
and nine who keep their heads well tucked under 
their blankets o’ nights, eh, Jackson? At least, the 
boots at the Inn’ll welcome me, for I owe him 
something on the hire of that bicycle.” 

He got into the car. It slid off along the dark¬ 
ness of the cliff road and in a moment was lost to 
sight. 


PART III 





♦ 



CHAPTER XXIII 


The little station of Fal Vale, on the evening of 
the twenty-ninth of November, and a cold and rainy 
night at that, presented an appearance of unmiti¬ 
gated gloom, such as only wayside stations in the 
heart of an English country can. The single oil lamp 
outside the tiny waiting-room on the platform swung 
forlornly on the wind; and beneath it, wrapped in 
an oilskin coat, Saul Hodgkin the station-master 
waited. His ferrety green eyes above the eagle’s 
beak of a nose looked with a mournful glance along 
the line of metals that every now and then shone 
out momentarily in the swing of the lantern. 

He was waiting for the down local, whose termi¬ 
nus was the tiny junction that had acquired such 
an unenviable reputation, and it was already twenty 
minutes late. He had been obliged to let the Truro 
train go through without waiting for the local; but 
it was hardly likely that any passengers would 
descend to pick up the connection, and anyhow 
their troubles were their own. He was only anxious 
to shut up the station and get home. 

66 ’Tisn’t fit for a dog to be out on such a night, 
let alone a human man,” he grumbled to himself, 
229 


230 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


and went and sat on the edge of the table in the 
dismal little waiting-room and stared gloomily into 
the ashes that the dead fire had scattered on the 
hearth. 

A rumble in the distance warned him at length 
of the approach of the belated train, and he lifted 
himself moodily off the table and went outside 
again to await its arrival. A few minutes later it 
emerged slowly out of the dark night and drew up 
at the station, Saul watching the procedure with a 
sort of phlegmatic disgust which was considerably 
heightened when half a dozen travellers alighted, 
one after the other, from various parts of the train. 

He tipped his peaked cap back from his fore¬ 
head and scratched his head. 66 Now what the ’ell be 
they doing ’ere?” he asked himself grumblingly as 
he went off to attend to his duties. 

The passengers consisted of two young couples: 
one obviously newly married, the other whose mar¬ 
riage was just as obviously not so new; a middle- 
aged lady carrying a parrot cage, and a dandified 
young man complete with eyeglass, a white muffler, 
a long cigarette-holder stuck in his mouth, and an 
air-cushion tucked under his arm. 

One by one they drifted from the wet discom¬ 
fort of the platform into the waiting-room which 
presented, however, a scarcely more attractive 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


231 


appearance, with its nearly dead fire whose wafts of 
smoke were blown out into the room every now and 
then, its single gas-jet burning with a faint blue 
flame that threw gloomy shadows about the room, 
and its damp wall-paper hanging here and there in 
strips from the walls. 

44 1 suppose,” said the rather sulky voice of the 
first girl to enter, 44 this is the waiting-room?” 

44 Looks damnably like it,” coolly replied the 
young man who was evidently a somewhat dis¬ 
gruntled husband. 

44 What smoke!” She half choked as a gust of 
wind blew down the chimney. 44 Just the sort of 
place you would bring me to. It’s cold, wet and 
disagreeable.” 

44 It’s disagreeable right enough,” he replied 
with meaning. 

44 You care a lot!” 

44 Well, hang it all, it’s not my fault, is it? I’m 
not managing director of the infernal company, am 
I? It’s that young fool’s fault, losing his beastly hat 
and then pulling the blasted communication cord. 
But for him we should have caught the damned 
connection all right.” 

44 And you,” she remarked acidly, 44 would have 
lost a fine opportunity for swearing.” 

44 Not at all. Opportunity for swearing, spe- 


232 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


cially in this climate, is superfluous. What’s this 
damned hole?” He opened the communicating 
door leading to the ticket office and went in, fol¬ 
lowed by his wife, as the station-master entered the 
waiting-room, the obviously honeymoon couple 
bringing up the rear. 

66 Well, all I says is this ’ere,” Saul Hodgkin 
declared emphatically, 64 it bain’t my fault. Ay, ay! 
Where be you going? Not that way!” 

He bawled the last sentence out of the door, 
and, his words having no effect apparently, fol¬ 
lowed them by turning on his heel and going out 
again himself in an attempt to reclaim the recalci¬ 
trant traveller. 

66 Good Lord!” exclaimed the bridegroom dis¬ 
gustedly, who, however, was a nice-looking boy of 
twenty-five or so. 64 What a hole! A cheery place, 
I don’t think! And bless my soul, this is our 
wedding night! I say, darling, I’m most awfully 
sorry.” 

44 It isn’t your fault, Charlie,” the pretty little 
bride declared with an evident intention of making 
the best of a bad job. 44 It was mother’s. I knew we 
should be late — I was afraid we should miss that 
train at Exeter.” 

44 Well, we don’t want to hang about here long. 
Do we, darling? Hang it all, it’s no joke. They’ll 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


233 


wonder what’s happened at the hotel if we don’t turn 
up. And I’m hungry and you’re tired, Peggy, and 
we want to get to — our hotel.” 

The little bride blushed prettily, and thrust an 
encouraging arm through Charlie’s, who was not to 
be so easily comforted, however. 

44 What I say is, hang that chap and his hat,” he 
remarked vehemently. 44 No one but a born fool 
would stop a train because he’d lost his hat! Damn 
him!” 

Peggy held her face up to be kissed, and at 
that moment the door opened again and the middle- 
aged lady with the parrot-cage entered, the station- 
master close on her heels. 

44 1 beg your pardon, both of you,” she apolo¬ 
gised, as the two young people started apart. 44 This 
is the general waiting-room, I suppose?” 

44 Oh — er-er — not at all,” protested Charlie. 
44 Of course — oh, here’s some more of them,” as 
the first couple returned from the ticket-office. 

44 What a horrible smell of smoke!” remarked 
the lady with the parrot. 44 Phew! Phew!” 

44 I’m sure it’s a nice fire,” said Saul Hodgkin in 
a resentful voice, 44 for the time o’ night.” 

44 Well, we shall have to make it do until the 
next train, I suppose,” the bride said hopefully. 

Saul turned to her. 


234 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 I keeps on telling ye there bain’t no next 
train.” 

44 What!” cried the horrified bridegroom. 64 No 
next train?” 

44 There bain’t no more trains till seven to-mor¬ 
row morning.” 

44 Look here,” protested Charlie, 44 1 simply 
must get this young lady — er — my wife — to 
Truro to-night.” 

44 Sorry, sir, but you can’t.” 

44 We must have a special.” 

44 There bain’t no specials on this line, not for 
years there hasn’t been.” 

44 Then where can we hire a car?” 

44 There bain’t no cars round here.” 

44 Well, what do you suggest?” cried the exas¬ 
perated bridegroom. 

44 If you wants to get anywhere to-night,” re¬ 
plied the station-master stolidly, 44 you’ll have to 
walk.” 

44 Good heavens!” He turned to his wife. 44 1 
say, Pegs, I’m deucedly sorry, I’m afraid we’re in a 
hell of a mess.” 

44 Now, look here, porter,” interposed the first 
young man, 44 we-” 

44 ’Scuse me, sir — station-master.” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 235 

66 Well, look here, do you really mean that we 
can’t get any further to-night?” 

66 That’s what I said,” affirmed the station- 
master doggedly. 

“ Then where’s the nearest hotel?” 

“ T’uro.” 

66 Surely there’s some place or other where we 
can stay the night?” 

The station-master shook his head. 

“ Bain’t no houses here. There be a farm five 
mile along the road-” 

66 But surely you live somewhere?” urged his 
interrogator. 

“I? I bi-cycles to T’uro.” 

The man who had been questioning Saul Hodg¬ 
kin turned to the rest of the benighted travellers. 
44 Well, ladies and gentlemen, as it looks as if we 
shall have to stay here till the morning, we’d better 
make ourselves known to each other. My name’s 
Winthrop, and this (come here, Elsie) is my wife.” 

66 Mine,” said Charlie, 64 is Murdoch, and this is 
my wife.” 

44 And I’m Miss Bourne,” supplemented the 
middle-aged lady. 44 This is Joey.” She indicated 
the parrot in its cage. 

44 That silly ass!” Winthrop exploded, as the 



236 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


full force of their plight seized him. 66 By the way 
— where is he?” 

66 There he another gen’elman outside,” the 
station-master volunteered. 

66 Well, we have to thank him for this predica¬ 
ment; him and his rotten hat,” Winthrop grunted, 
and the middle-aged Miss Bourne broke in indig¬ 
nantly. 

“He ought to be summoned or something. Why 
couldn’t he leave the communication cord alone?” 

“Yes — imbecile!” agreed Charlie Murdoch 
whole-heartedly. And then a resentful silence 
descended on the little company as the door opened 
yet again to admit the person under discussion. 
The white muffler loosely knotted round his throat, 
his air-cushion protruding like a bag-pipe’s minus 
the pipes from beneath his arm, he trotted into the 
centre of the group which eyed him with distinct 
hostility. 

The delinquent, however, appeared to be bliss¬ 
fully unconscious of anything amiss, and to regard 
the misfortune of his fellow travellers as rather a 
good joke. 

“ I say,” he began, “ what a topping little crib! 
Here we all are, then. What are we doing? Having 
a discussion?” 

“ Not at all,” said Winthrop icily. “ We were 


THE GHOST TRAIN 237 

all perfectly unanimous on the subject under dis¬ 
cussion.” 

“ How remarkable! So we’re here till morning, 
eh? Rather priceless, isn’t it? After all, a little 
adventure like this relieves the monotony of exist¬ 
ence, doesn’t it?” 

“ Young man,” Miss Bourne demanded heavily, 
66 what is your name?” 

64 My name, dear Madam?” He hunted in his 
pockets. 44 Sorry, I haven’t a visiting card. But as 
a matter of fact, it’s Deakin. Yes, Deakin — 
Edward Deakin.” 

44 Well, Mr. Deakin, have you no sense of 
responsibility?” went on the irate lady. 

44 Responsibility?” asked Deakin, screwing up 
his face and peeking at her. 44 Whatever’s that?” 

44 Your ignorance of the word,” said Miss 
Bourne, 44 hardly surprises me. And I think — we 
all think — your lack of concern is monstrous, con¬ 
sidering you are the direct cause of this most 
unpleasant contretemps.” 

44 My good woman,” Deakin began argumenta¬ 
tively. 

44 I’m not a good woman,” began Miss Bourne 
warmly. 44 1 — I mean — please do not address 
me with such unwarranted familiarity.” 

44 Sorry. You ought to be fair,” remarked the 


238 THE GHOST TRAIN 

young man. 66 How could I help my hat blowing 
away?” 

64 If you lean out of the window,” Winthrop 
remarked drily, 66 it often happens. And anyhow, 
losing your hat was no excuse for pulling the com¬ 
munication cord.” 

66 Don’t you think so? Well, I do. It was a jolly 
nice hat,” returned Deakin aggrievedly. 64 1 only 
bought it last week. Besides,” he brightened, 44 I’ve 
often wanted to pull the communication cord — 
such a refreshing idea!” 

44 Damn it, sir,” broke in Murdoch. 44 Haven’t 
you any sense of decency?” 

The delinquent looked from one to the other 
utterly astonished, as if he really could not under¬ 
stand what all the fuss was about. 

44 You don’t seem to have realised the facts of 
the case,” continued the young bridegroom with 
considerable warmth. 44 First of all, you stick your 
head out of the window like the silly ass you are, 
and then, when your beastly hat blows off, you pull 
the communication cord and stop the train on an 
incline. Consequently we miss the connection at 
the junction and find ourselves in this god-forsaken 
hole. And, to top up with, you seem to think you 
have done us all a favour, instead of realising that 
here we are and here we shall have to stop!” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 239 

The station-master, who had been standing lis¬ 
tening to the harangue, now interrupted with: 

64 Beg pardon, sir, but you can’t stop here.” 

There was a chorus of 44 What?” 44 Eh?” 
44 What do you mean?” 44 Where are we to go, 
then?” 

Hodgkin lifted his hand. 44 1 said as ’ow you 
can’t stop ’ere. There being no traffic on the line 
everything shuts up for the night — signal box, 
station and all. I’m off ’ome. And before I goes I 
’as to lock all this ’ere up.” 

44 Don’t be so damned silly!” cried Winthrop 
angrily. 44 What else can we do but stop here? Do 
you expect these ladies to walk five miles on a night 
like this to that farm?” 

44 Bain’t no affair o’ mine what you do,” Saul 
responded. 44 All I know is you can’t stop ’ere. 
Horders is horders.” 

Winthrop put his hand in his pocket and drew 
out some coins. 

44 Now come along, station-master,” he said per¬ 
suasively. 44 We’re going to stay. Make the best of 
it — we’ll see you get into no trouble.” 

Saul considered. The coins so temptingly 
offered before his eyes seemed to put a new com¬ 
plexion on the affair. 

44 Well, sir. I dunno. Seems I ’aven’t no 


240 THE GHOST TRAIN 

choice,” he admitted grudgingly, and pocketed the 
coins. 

“That’s the talk!” Winthrop said. “Come 
along, now, let’s try to make these ladies comfort¬ 
able. Any more chairs? Any coal?” 

“ Might be some in the ticket-office,” the station- 
master volunteered, though not with any great 
alacrity. 

“ Well, let’s go and see. Come along, Elsie. 
Come on, Murdoch.” 

In the general exodus to the inner room Charlie 
and his young wife somehow manoeuvred to be left 
behind for a few minutes and he seized the oppor¬ 
tunity to take her in his arms and kiss her. The 
tender embrace was interrupted by the sudden flying 
up of the ticket-office window, out of which the 
head of Mr. Deakin poked itself. 

“ All change! All change! Get in your queue, 
please! Sorry, sold out of tickets to London. Noth¬ 
ing but Wigan excursions left.” Then, pretending 
to catch sight of Peggy and Charlie for the first 
time, he cried in mock contrition, “ I say, I’m 
beastly sorry!” 

“ Don’t mention it,” said Murdoch furiously. 
“ We’re beginning to get quite used to you. Of all 
the prize asses-” 

“Ah! I believe some one likes me. 6 When you 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


241 


are harpy, friend of mine, and all your skies are 
blu-ue — ’ Don’t you like my voice? Then book 
your tour with Cook’s.” He withdrew his head and 
slammed down the window with such violence that 
Peggy jumped nervously. 

44 Now,” said Winthrop, returning with a chair 
in either hand, followed by Saul Hodgkin carrying 
a coal-box, 66 we’ll do our best to make things as 
cheerful as possible. Help me with this form, Mur¬ 
doch, there’s a good chap.” 

64 We shall be awfully hungry before long,” 
Mrs. Winthrop put in, peevishly. 

64 Anything edible here, station-master?” her 
husband demanded. 

44 Not a drop, sir.” 

Winthrop smiled. 44 Anything here to eat?” 

44 Not a bite, sir — ’cept water,” he indicated 
the water-bottle on the table, 44 and we hardly counts 
that.” 

They drew up the forms and chairs round the 
replenished fire and seated themselves. 

44 Still hungry, ladies and gentlemen?” re¬ 
marked Deakin pleasantly. 44 I’ll soon fix that.” 

44 Can you?” the ladies asked in eager chorus. 

44 Just coming, sir. One moment, madam.” The 
exasperating young man went to the ticket-office 
and raised the flap, calling through: 44 Six roast 


242 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


beef and veg.” The flap fell down with a bang. 
“ Sorry, sir, but the kitchen staff have gone boating. 
Oh, but never mind; there’s a fly in the water- 
bottle.” 

Miss Bourne, who was sitting with her parrot- 
cage on her knee, called out solemnly: 

66 Young man, do you ever take anything in life 
seriously?” 

66 Oh, yes,” he replied genially. 64 Whiskey.” 

64 Insolent fellow!” cried Miss Bourne in high 
indignation, and turned her back upon him. 

Deakin grinned fatuously at her and went and 
sat down in a corner, and the station-master made a 
move to go. 44 Seeing as ’ow you’ve all settled to 
stay ’ere, I’ll be off ’ome. You can stop ’ere, seeing 
as ’ow you’ve made up your minds to it; but — ” 
he added darkly, 44 not me.” 

44 You’d better stay,” said Winthrop. 44 We 
might want something. You know where things are. 
We shan’t forget you.” 

Hodgkin paused in his walk to the door. 

44 What, me stay ’ere all night? Me stay in Fal 
Yale all night?” he asked, as if the idea was an 
unheard of one to him. 

44 Well, why not?” asked Murdoch. 

44 See ’ere,” asked Hodgkin, 44 ’aven’t you never 
’eard about this ’ere station?” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 243 

64 Never even knew it was here,” declared Win- 
throp. 66 What about it?” 

The station-master paused to give effect to his 
words. 

46 It’s ’aunted, sir.” 

The announcement was received with bated 
breath by the ladies and by a sudden little scream 
of laughter from Deakin. 

44 Why, if this isn’t too absolutely priceless! 
The station’s haunted!” he gurgled. 

Hodgkin turned on him with great severity. 

44 You may laugh, sir. Maybe you’ll laugh the 
other side of your face before morning.” 

44 Do you mean,” reasoned Winthrop , 44 that you 
believe in ghosts?” 

44 Aye, I do, sir.” Hodgkin spoke with convic¬ 
tion. 44 There bain’t many in these parts as don’t. 
Not for a five pun note would I stay in this station; 
not to-night — ” his voice took on a more sombre 
note — 44 of all nights.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


In spite of themselves the little audience of six 
marooned travellers were impressed by the station- 
master’s words, though they would not for worlds 
have admitted it. Winthrop tried to laugh off the 
uneasy feeling that the depressing atmosphere of 
the place and the continual drip of the rain on the 
roof was inducing among them. 

66 Well, you’re not afraid to stay with us, I 
suppose? Anyhow, before you go you might tell 
us what to expect.” 

Saul Hodgkin moved towards the ticket-office. 
66 No, I’ll be getting home now.” 

64 Look here, you needn’t go yet,” put in Charlie 
Murdoch. 64 Tell us all about the ghost — we want 
something to entertain us.” 

44 Entertain ye?” The other lifted hands in 
amazed protest. 44 Powers above!” 

Winthrop went over to Saul and slipped a 
further coin in his hand. The man looked at it and 
hesitated once again. Then he turned towards them 
reluctantly. 

44 Very well, I’ll do it, though I warns you it 
bain’t no pretty story, and I’d rather be going ’ome. 

244 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


245 


It be like this: twenty year ago this very night a 
man by the name of Ted Holmes used to be in 
charge of this ’ere station. Did you notice a bridge 
just down below?” 

One or two of them had, it seemed. 

66 That,” continued Hodgkin , 66 be a bridge over 
the river Ross. It be a swing bridge an’ used to be 
worked by a lever out ’ere on this very platform. 
In them days quite big boats did come up the river 
after the china clay. Them don’t come now.” He 
paused. 

46 Well?” encouraged Winthrop. 

44 Twenty year ago this very night, there was a 
party o’ people went to a bean-feast up to Truro, 
and they chartered a special train to take ’em back 
’ome to St. Blande down the line. That were the 
only night train as ever ran on these lines. Ted 
Holmes were kept on duty that night to close the 
bridge which were always left open night-time, for 
the clayboats to go out on the tide. It must ’ave been 
eleven o’clock when they ’phoned down from T’uro 
to shut the bridge as the special would soon be 
a-starting off. Ted answers as how he’d go and shut 
the bridge that moment, an’ them were the last 
words he were ever ’eard to speak.” 

44 What happened?” cried the little bride 
breathlessly. 


246 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 All in good time, Miss. As I were saying, Ted 
answers as how he’d go out and shut the bridge that 
moment, jest at eleven o’clock. He goes to the door, 
and there it was that illness comes to him, an’ he 
falls down there on the platform jest outside that 
very door — dead!” 

66 Shocking!” came from Miss Bourne, and 
66 How terrible!” murmured Peggy. 

64 And that bain’t the worst of it, not near the 
worst, it bain’t. As I were saying, jest at eleven 
o’clock Ted Holmes falls down dead. After ’twere 
all over, outside that very door they finds ’im, the 
lamp still burning in ’is ’and. It must ’ave been 
’alf past eleven when the train starts off from T’uro, 
and ’ere be the bridge wide open and Ted Holmes 
a-lying dead on the platform. On comes the train 
down the valley at a fair lick, every one being 
anxious to get ’ome. On she comes, at thirty miles 
an hour, I reckons — poor Ben Izaacs were arriv¬ 
ing, and it did seem as though when ’e were jest 
above the station ’ere, something did warn ’im — 
what ’twere, the powers above alone know, but he 
claps on his brakes, and the train goes a-tearing 
through the station ’ere, all the brakes on, the 
whistles screamin’ and then — crash!” 

64 Good Lord!” 

66 What an awful thing!” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


247 


66 Were there many killed?” 

“ Six killed outright, an’ two died after. By 
some miracle poor Ben Izaacs were thrown clear. 
He climbs out o’ water and comes back ’ere to the 
station, ’is mind clean gone, an’ they say ’e walked 
the platform ’ere for hours wavin’ a red lamp and 
singin’ 6 Rock of Ages.’ Next mornin’ ’e died and 
’twere a merciful release. Six bodies they brought 
up from the mud and laid out in this very room,” 
he ended with solemn emphasis. 

A silence followed the grim story. 

66 1 warned ’ee ’tweren’t no pretty tale you was 
making me tell,” the station-master said as he pre¬ 
pared to leave. 

46 Yes,” Murdoch remarked sceptically, 46 but 
where does the haunting come in?” 

44 Ever since that night, this station ’as been 
’aunted.” 

44 Who by? Ted Holmes?” 

44 More than that. Some nights the signal bell 
rings and a train comes a-screamin’ and a-tearin’ 
through the station with all the brakes on and 
whistles a-blowin’.” 

44 Nonsense!” Winthrop jibed. 

44 ’Tis God’s truth, I’m tellin’ yer, sir. One 
night, a while back, I were kept late by a thunder¬ 
storm, and jest as I gets down the road the signal 


248 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


bell rings and then I ’eard ’er go through — I saw 
the flare from ’er furnace — saw it with me own 
eyes, sir!” 

66 1 expect it’s some freight train that’s started 
this yarn.” 

66 1 tell ye there bain’t no train runs on these 
metals from seven at night till seven in the morn¬ 
ing. Besides which, it never starts from T’uro an’ 
never runs into St. Blande. If it be a natural thing, 
where do it come from? Where do it go? Folk in 
these parts runs like mad if they ’ear a train in 
the night. They do say that to look upon the ghost 
train do mean — death.” 

Winthrop laughed outright. 

66 Now that’s absolute rubbish!” 

“Bide a bit, sir — bide a bit! A month ago 
a tramp breaks into this waiting-room one night, an’ 
next mornin’ they finds ’im ’ere dead. The doctors 
says as ’ow he died of fear.” 

“ Pure coincidence.” 

“ But that don’t explain the train, sir. Dozens 
’ave ’eard ’er tearin’ down the line. No. You can 
stop here if you like, but not me. They do say as 
the dead do walk the platform and poor Ben 
Izaacs a-leading of ’em.” 

Deakin, who during this recital had been sitting 


THE GHOST TRAIN 249 

silent, now came forward with his irresponsible 
chuckle. 

66 1 think this is all too perfectly priceless!” he 
exclaimed. 64 1 never heard anything so delight¬ 
fully funny in all my life.” 

46 Funny?” Hodgkin glared. 44 So you make 
game of me, sir?” 

44 Don’t get angry, old fruit,” Deakin soothed. 
44 Man to man, you know, it’s rather tall.” 

44 This is the last time,” Miss Bourne vowed, 
44 that I’ll ever travel by this line. I never heard 
of anything so mismanaged. Isn’t there any proper 
system of signalling?” 

44 It’s only a single track, ma’am, and back 
when the accident happened the line was only just 
opened. Things is different now, and the swing 
bridge is never opened.” 

44 What’s the jolly old lever on the platform, 
then?” asked Deakin casually. 

44 That works the points to the siding as runs up 
the hill to the old tin mine,” the station-master 
explained. He strode into the ticket-office and began 
to lock up the drawers; and Deakin went and sat by 
Miss Bourne, grinning fatuously as if he were 
extorting a tremendous amount of enjoyment out 
of the episode. 


250 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 Oh, cheer up, people,” he said ingratiatingly. 
66 It might be worse.” 

66 That is all very well for you, young man,” 
Miss Bourne informed him. 66 You have landed 
us into this most unpleasant situation and instead 
of expressing regret all you can do is to make fun 
of us. You are an ill-mannered young puppy, sir. 
My dear sister at Truro will be sitting up all night 
for me, and here am I in a cold railway station, 
with ghosts and things all over the place, and all 
you can do is to sit there and laugh. I will not stay 
in the same room with you.” She seized the parrot- 
cage and sailed to the ticket-office door, then drew 
back shuddering, 66 Oh! Oh! I’m sure I saw some¬ 
thing move in there!” 

It was obvious that the party, especially the 
feminine members of it, was getting a little jumpy. 

“Look here,” Winthrop argued. “You’d bet¬ 
ter stay, station-master.” 

Hodgkin looked about him fearfully. “ It’s no 
good, sir, not a bit o’ good. I won’t stay ’ere no 
longer, not for a ’undred pounds I won’t. I knows 
too much about this station.” 

“ Can’t you see you’re alarming the ladies?” 

“ Bain’t my fault, sir. I warned yer when yer 
first came that Fal Vale station was no pleasant 
place to pass the night. If you takes my advice 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


251 


you’ll set out for the farm even now. I’ve done me 
best, but I ain’t going to risk no more. I’ve got a 
wife and childer lookin’ to me.” 

66 Very well,” cried Murdoch, losing his tem¬ 
per, ‘/go — and be damned to you — if you’re 
afraid-” 

“ Afraid? I am afraid, sir. I bain’t ashamed 
to own it.” He lighted his bicycle lamp as he spoke. 
“ I’ll be back ’ere at seven to-morrow to see you on 
to the train, and you take my advice, keep in ’ere; 
and if yer do ’ear a train, for God’s sake don’t go 
runnin’ out to look at ’im. Good-night to you all.” 

“ Good-night, and a pleasant ride, old chap. I 
hope you get jolly well soaked,” was Deakin’s 
parting shot. 

“ Thank you, sir. Good -night to you.” 

He went out, lamp in hand, and Deakin fol¬ 
lowed in his wake to open the door after him and 
call, “ Kiss baby for me. Cheery old soul, that 
chap,” he grinned. 

“ We’d better make arrangements for the 
night,” Winthrop advised. “ The ladies must sleep 
in here; it’s drier than the ticket-office. The rain’s 
coming through the roof there. Help me move this 
table, Deakin. Somebody may be able to rest on it.” 

They placed the table beneath the window, and 
arranged forms near the melancholy pretense at a 



252 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


fire, collecting the travelling rugs of the combined 
party to form the bedding. Then they settled them¬ 
selves to pass the night as comfortably as might be 
under the peculiar circumstances. The wind howled 
outside, the rain poured down in torrents. The 
bride and bridegroom dozed with their arms round 
each other, Miss Bourne hugged her parrot-cage, 
Deakin covered his face with a newspaper as he lay 
at full length on one of the hard forms; the obvi¬ 
ously married couple kept sulkily apart. And so 
the time passed. 

Suddenly they all started awake. Something 
had bumped heavily against the door. 

66 What’s that?” cried Miss Bourne. 

64 Goodness knows!” Murdoch opened the door. 

Lying on the platform just outside the door, his 
bicycle lamp in his hand, was the body of Saul 
Hodgkin, the station-master. 

44 What the deuce-” Winthrop ran to the 

door and stooped over the figure; and suddenly 
Elsie Winthrop screamed. 

44 The lamp! Don’t you remember? 4 Outside 
the door they found him, the lamp still burning in 
his hand’ ” 

Murdoch took out his watch, then looked round 
at the ring of frightened faces. 

44 Eleven o’clock! Good God!” 



CHAPTER XXV 


Between them the two men managed to lift the 
heavy body and to carry it into the ticket-office, 
where they laid it on the floor. For once, the irre¬ 
pressible Deakin was silent. Even he seemed to 
feel that the occasion was scarcely one on which to 
give vent to a jest; and comment between the other 
two seemed useless. They carefully shut the door of 
the inner room on the body and returned to the 
waiting-room in silence. The occurrence had been 
so sudden, and had followed so immediately on the 
unfortunate Hodgkin’s grim tale of the twenty-year- 
old tragedy and its strange sequel, that the shock of 
it had left them unable to think clearly or to reason 
the thing out carefully. 

This night of all nights, he had said, nothing 
would induce him to remain in the neighbourhood 
of the haunted station and it seemed indeed as if, 
even in his flight from it, the mysterious menace had 
followed and struck him down. Yet it was impos¬ 
sible of belief: there must be some perfectly normal 
and reasonable solution — a heart attack, induced 
perhaps by fright — self-hypnotism resulting in 
253 


254 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


death — any cause rather than the absurd one they 
were asked to believe in. 

They found the women huddled together, 
attempting to comfort each other, but obviously 
overcome by the uncanny events of the evening. 
Winthrop tried to calm them. 

66 Now, ladies, this is a nasty business, I know, 
and has given us a bit of a jar, but we must try not 
to take things too seriously,” he reasoned. 

Miss Bourne, on the verge of hysterics, cried: 
46 Can’t we go away somewhere?” 

44 That’s quite a good idea,” he returned, 44 but 
it’s raining harder than ever — simply coming down 
in sheets. Besides which, there’s nothing to be afraid 
of now. We’ve put that poor fellow in the other 
room and locked the door. Let’s try and forget 
about it.” 

44 Then you don’t think his death had anything 
to do with the story he told us?” the little bride, 
whose face was white, murmured. 

44 My dear lady, dismiss it from your mind. 
Life is full of coincidences.” 

44 It was a jolly strange one, though, wasn’t it?” 
asked Deakin cheerfully. 44 It’s just what he said 
happened — every detail!” 

44 Shut up, you idiot!” growled Murdoch. But 
Deakin was not to be so easily disposed of. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


255 


“ That’s all very well, old bean, but I suppose 
I’m entitled to my opinion the same as any one 
else?” he said pertly, screwing up his eyes and 
poking his face close to Murdoch’s. 

44 You’re not entitled to frighten people,” de¬ 
clared the bridegroom, putting his arm about his 
wife. 

44 There was no such idea in my head. I was 
only thinking of a story I heard once of some people 
who spent the night in a haunted mill and just as the 
clock was striking midnight-” 

Winthrop said firmly, 44 1 think that story will 
keep.” 

44 All right, don’t get shirty about it! After all, 
I don’t believe in ghosts myself. I think this is all 
rather a scream. But still, on the other hand, so did 
those people who spent the night in the haunted mill. 
They saw a simply horrible-” 

44 Look here, shut up!” cried Murdoch savagely. 

44 Oh, very well, I will,” returned Deakin huf¬ 
fily. 44 Now you’ve properly done it. I shan’t tell 
you the story at all.” He went and sat down on the 
corner of the form, turning his back on the rest of 
the party. 

44 1 feel perfectly sure,” declared Miss Bourne 
solemnly, 44 there’s some terrible supernatural force 
at work.” 




256 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


“Nonsense!” Winthrop assured her. 

“ That’s what you said before, and yet look 
what happened. There were four men here — now 
there are only three.” 

There was a little silence. 

“ As I said just now, that was pure coincidence; 
it’s no good worrying about it, Miss Bourne.” 

The flap of the ticket window suddenly fell with 
a sharp bang. 

“ Oh! Oh!” shrieked the, women in chorus, 
starting to their feet. 

“ Only the ticket flap fell down. Nothing super¬ 
natural about that, anyway,” said Winthrop, with 
what was meant to be a reassuring smile. 

Deakin got up from his seat and came towards 
them, as if he had suddenly thought of a brilliant 
idea. 

“ That reminds me of something. Whatever is 
it? I know — Golder’s Green!” 

66 I’ve never been on that station,” said Mur¬ 
doch shortly. 

Deakin grinned. “ Not the station, the Crema¬ 
torium. Don’t you know, they push the bodies-” 

“ Shut up!” the two other men shouted in 
chorus. 

“ I thought you’d like to hear about it. They only 



THE GHOST TRAIN 257 

push the bodies-” Deakin made an expressive 

movement with his hands. 

44 Will you shut up?” 

44 Well!" declared the irrepressible one. 66 You 
are a difficult crowd to entertain.” 

66 Dear, oh dear!” wailed Miss Bourne. 46 What 
shall we do?” 

44 We must pull ourselves together, that’s what 
we must do,” said Winthrop gallantly. 

44 Don’t you believe in ghosts, young man?” she 
queried tearfully. 

44 1 don’t believe in them and I don’t disbelieve 
in them. But that’s quite beside the point. Nothing 
of a supernatural nature has happened here.” 

44 But it might! Suppose that train should come, 
what should we do?” 

44 1 say,” interposed Deakin hopefully, 44 if the 
ghost train comes, I bags we stop it and try and 
get a lift.” 

The two others regarded him in silent disgust. 
Nothing seemed to stop the young fool from trying 
to frighten the women even more severely than they 
were already. 

But it was Peggy who tried to soothe Miss 
Bourne. 

44 Come, Miss Bourne, there’s nothing to be 



258 THE GHOST TRAIN 

frightened about. There’s no danger really, you 
know.” 

46 1 feel so ill,” said Miss Bourne weakly. 64 I’m 
sure I’m going to faint.” 

Deakin pulled a flask from his pocket. 44 1 say, 
I’ve just had a brain wave. I forgot all about this. 
Brandy. The very thing. Have some of this, Miss 
Bourne.” 

44 Oh, dear me, no,” cried that lady protestingly, 
44 1 couldn’t think of such a thing — I’m a strict 
teetotaler.” 

44 But this is different, Miss Bourne. You should 
have a little just as medicine. It would do you 
good,” urged Winthrop, taking the flask from the 
other’s hand. 

44 Well, just a spot,” agreed Miss Bourne, 
faintly. She took the flask and drank a little, splut¬ 
tering. 44 Ah! Ugh! Now I’ve broken my pledge. 
Dear me, it’s hardly as nasty as I imagined.” 

44 1 should have a little more,” encouraged Win¬ 
throp. 

44 Do you think I ought? Then just a sip-” 

she raised the flask and drank again. 

44 Feel better now?” asked Peggy sympatheti¬ 
cally, after a moment. 

44 1 think I do feel a little better,” agreed Miss 



THE GHOST TRAIN 259 

Bourne, and handed the flask back to Winthrop, who 
passed it to Deakin. 

66 Crumbs!” cried Deakin, regarding the flask 
in amazement. 

66 What’s up now?” cried Murdoch testily. 

“Look at my beastly flask. It’s empty!” And 
he turned it upside down. “ It was full just now 
— full to the rotten brim.” 

“ Phew!” said Winthrop. They all turned to 
look at Miss Bourne. “ Well, it won’t do her any 
harm.” 

“ Well, it won’t do me any good,” remarked the 
aggrieved Deakin. 

Miss Bourne was beaming on the company. She 
began to prattle, 66 D’you know, it’s a strange thing, 
but in spite of all these terrible happenings I’m 
beginning to feel quite happy?” 

“ Good Lord!” whispered Murdoch in horrified 
amusement. “ Miss Bourne, wouldn’t you like to 
lie down?” 

“ Lie down? Why?” asked Miss Bourne. 

“ We thought perhaps you would be more com¬ 
fortable,” Peggy suggested tactfully. 

66 I’m perfectly comfortable, m’dear.” She 
leaned her head against Murdoch’s shoulder. 
“ ’Straordinary good medicine, my dear. Shall 


260 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


most certainly recommend it to the Vicar. Made 
me feel quite sleepy. Just the thing for the Vicar 
— he suffers dreadfully from insom — insom — 
sleeplessness. Dear me! Well, perhaps you’re right. 
I think after all I will lie down.” 

Murdoch and Winthrop led her gently to the 
table beneath the window, and hoisted her carefully 
upon it, covering her with rugs and folding up 
coats to form a pillow for her head. Miss Bourne 
acquiesced gracefully and immediately fell fast 
asleep. Murdoch turned to Winthrop with a gleam 
of amusement in his eyes. 

66 That was rather funny, her getting squiffy as 
easily as that,” he remarked. 

66 My dear chap, she emptied the flask! Perhaps 
it’s just as well for the poor soul. She’s gone to 
sleep now and may not wake up until it’s light,” 
Winthrop replied. 

66 It’s damned hard lines on me, though,” said 
Deakin, still aggrieved. 64 1 didn’t reckon on her 
swigging the whole issue.” 

44 Don’t be a fool, Deakin. It’s worth it, to keep 

her quiet, and-” Murdoch’s words were cut off 

abruptly. 

There suddenly sounded above the thunder of 
the rain on the roof, a hurried knocking at the door. 
All five turned towards it, and for a moment there 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


261 


was a paralysed silence. The knocking was repeated 
more urgently, and after a second Murdoch started 
towards the door. But Peggy clung to him. 

64 Don’t go! Wait! You don’t know who it may 
be — what it may be!” she whispered in a panic- 
stricken voice. 

44 Then I must find out,” he answered resolutely, 
and, disengaging himself gently from the little 
bride’s arms, he strode forward and opened the door. 

It was Julia who stood there. Julia Price, her 
grey eyes wide with fear, her grey cloak soaked with 
rain. She stood a moment without speaking, but 
looking from one face to the next dazedly. It seemed 
to Murdoch that her glance rested for one short 
moment of recognition upon Deakin, before it 
passed on to the others, as she entered, closed the 
door and leaned her weight against it, as if to keep 
out something beside the dark and the rain. Then 
she started forward with an imploring gesture, and 
cried: 

44 Tell me, has it come?” 

44 1 beg your pardon?” asked Murdoch, puzzled. 

44 Has it come?” she repeated wildly. 

44 I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you.” 

44 You know! You must know.” 

44 I’m afraid we don’t.” Murdoch made an 
enquiring gesture towards the others. 


262 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


64 Listen to me,” she whispered. 44 1 want you 
to help me. Will you help me?” 

44 Of course, but what exactly is the matter?” 

44 Hide me from them. Hide me — please!” she 
implored. 

44 Yes, but hide you from whom?” 

44 From them." 

44 But — er — who are they?” asked Winthrop, 
puzzled. 

44 You must help me,” she repeated. 44 Don’t let 
them take me back. I can’t go back. I can’t!” 

Outside the door, a voice was heard in the dis¬ 
tance, calling: 

44 Julia! Julia!” 

44 There they are. What shall I do? They’ll find 
me. They’ll take me back again. Help me!” she 
cried frantically. 

44 It’s all right,” Murdoch assured her. 44 We 
won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

44 Then let me hide — in here-” she made 

a movement towards the ticket-office, but Winthrop 
barred the way. 

44 No! No! Not in there!” he pushed her gently 
away from the door. 

The voice outside was coming nearer. 

44 Julia! Julia!” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 263 

“ They’re coming, I tell you!” She tried to break 
from his grasp. 

“ It’s all right,” Peggy added her assurance. 

“ It’s not all right-” Julia darted behind 

the door as two men entered. 

One was an elderly, clean-shaven man; the 
other, tall, thin and forbidding looking. They 
appeared very much astonished to have come sud¬ 
denly upon the little party in the waiting-room, and 
both stopped on the threshold. 

66 Hello! Who the devil are you people?” cried 
one. 

44 That’s just what I was going to ask you,” 
Winthrop retorted. 

44 We’ve come here on a very urgent matter,” 
the elderly man explained. 

44 And we,” returned Winthrop, 44 are here 
purely by the force of circumstance. I suppose 
you’re surprised to find us here at this time of the 
night?” 

44 We’re most certainly not here by choice,” put 
in Murdoch. 44 We lost a connection and have to 
wait here until the next train.” 

44 But there isn’t any next train,” the thin man 
informed him, and added, with a sinister note in 
his voice: 44 You know what place this is?” 



264 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


64 Rather!” said Deakin. 64 This is Fal Vale 
station.” 

44 Quite so.” The thin man spoke drily. 

44 And now, perhaps,” asked Winthrop, a little 
nettled by the other’s tone, 44 you’ll give us some ex¬ 
planation of your somewhat unexpected entrance?” 

44 Oh, yes. My name’s Price. This is Doctor 
Sterling. We’re looking for my sister.” 

44 Your sister?” Deakin seemed interested. 

44 Yes. Have you seen a young lady about here? 
We have every reason to believe that she would come 
to this place.” 

44 Then she’s run away from you?” Winthrop 
queried cautiously. 

44 In a way, yes.” Price spoke rather reluctantly. 
44 Have you seen her?” 

44 But why should she run away? Why should 
she come here?” demanded Murdoch. 

44 That,” returned Price pompously, 44 is not a 
matter that I wish to discuss with strangers.” 

44 Very well. In that case I’m afraid we can’t 
help you.” 

44 She’s here somewhere, Price; I know that,” 
impatiently put in the man introduced as Doctor 
Sterling. 44 Look in the other room.” 

Price moved towards the door of the ticket- 
office, but Winthrop once again barred the way. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 265 

46 Stop! You can’t go in there — not yet!” he 
warned. 

44 And why not, sir?” Price drew himself up, 
indignantly. 

44 Because — because there’s something we must 
explain-” 

44 So she is in there?” He made a swift move¬ 
ment towards the inner room. 

44 No!” 

Price was not to be gainsaid, however. 

44 I’m sorry,” he remarked, 44 but I don’t believe 
you. You’re doing a very foolish thing to interfere 
in this matter.” 

44 She’s not there!” asserted Winthrop. 44 1 give 
you my word of honour.” 

44 It’s not good enough. Shut that door, Sterling! 
I mean to get to the bottom of this.” 

Sterling shut the outer door, and by so doing 
disclosed Julia, who had been crouching terror- 
stricken behind it. 

44 Hello! So there you are, Julia!” 

The girl stood before them, wringing her hands 
and crying: 44 1 can’t come back — you know I 
can’t!” 

64 Come along, Julia.” The doctor laid a hand 
on her arm, soothingly. 44 Let’s get out of here while 
the rain holds off.” 



266 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 No, no, I can’t. I must stay here, I can’t go.” 
She tore away from him. 64 Don’t touch me! Go 
away!” 

44 Damn it all,” said Price savagely. 44 If she 
won’t come, we must take her.” 

Julia ran to Winthrop’s side, obviously under 
the spell of some horrid fear, and he put an arm 
round her shoulders. 

44 Excuse me, but this lady has put herself under 
our protection. You’re not going to take her away 
against her will,” he declared hotly. 

44 Mind your own business, sir!” cried Price 
sharply. 

44 It is our business,” Murdoch announced. 

The doctor intervened, trying to pour oil on the 
troubled waters. 

44 You’d better explain to them, Price. It’s no 
good trying to ride roughshod in this matter. Come, 
Julia, let’s sit down by the fire.” He took her hand 
as if he were encouraging a child, and she did not 
resist when he led her to a chair. 

44 Now then,” said Price authoritatively, 44 lis¬ 
ten to me, please. You people have heard the story 
about this place, I suppose?” 

44 We’ve heard the ghost story,” replied Mur¬ 
doch. 44 All about this station being haunted; that’s 
the one, I suppose?” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 267 

“ Yes. Please don’t let my sister worry you; 
she’s — well, she suffers from — er — well — er 
— delusions at times. No, hardly that,” in answer 
to an expressive look from Winthrop. 64 It’s all this 
infernal ghost train business. She was near this 
station one night several years ago, and she thought 
she saw the train.” 

Julia cried wildly: 66 1 did see it — you know I 
saw it — I did see it!” 

44 There, there, Julia!” the doctor soothed. 

44 You see,” went on Price, 44 she’s Cornish and 
believes in ghosts. She always has done, ever since 
she was a kiddie. I sometimes feel there’s something 
psychic about her. Anyway, she thought she saw 
this ghost train and it was a great shock to her. So 
great a shock that it — well — er — upset her per¬ 
manently. She’s perfectly well most of the time, 
but some nights she has this idea that the ghost train 
will run and it has a morbid fascination for her. 
She feels that she must see it again. This is one of 
her bad nights. Now I hope you understand.” 

44 It will come to-night,” Julia declared. 44 1 know 
it will.” 

44 Nonsense, Julia.” 

44 It’s not nonsense, I know it. I feel it. I’m 
never wrong. That night the tramp died — I felt it 
then!” 


268 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Price shrugged his shoulders. 64 There you are, 
you see. Don’t let it alarm you. How did you get to 
know this story?” 

44 The station-master told us the yarn earlier in 
the evening.” 

66 Oh, old Saul Hodgkin. Where is he, by the 
way?” asked Sterling carelessly. 

Winthrop looked at Murdoch. 64 Something 
rather strange has happened here to-night. Some¬ 
thing rather unpleasant. We should like you to 
know about it,” he said. 

Price eyed him narrowly. 44 Well?” 

44 The old boy,” resumed Winthrop, 44 didn’t 
want us to put up for the night at this place; he 
didn’t think it was safe. He told us the whole story 
and then he said he should go home. He took his 
cycle lamp, lit it and went off. Then we heard a 
noise, and when we opened the door we found him 
lying outside — dead.” 

44 Good God!” cried Price tensely. 

44 1 knew it!” cried the girl. 44 What did I tell 
you? Now perhaps you’ll believe me.” 

44 You think that there’s some supernatural force 
at work?” the little bride plucked up courage to 
ask timidly. 

44 Yes,” said Julia, and added vehemently: 


THE GHOST TRAIN 269 

66 Why, that’s where they found poor Ted Holmes, 
lying outside the door.” 

66 Steady, Julia. I’m a doctor, ladies and gen¬ 
tlemen,” explained Sterling. 64 Where is this poor 
chap? Let me see him.” 

64 We carried him into the ticket-office,” said 
Murdoch and Winthrop in one breath. 

44 All right. I’ll go and examine him.” The 
doctor crossed to the inner door, opened it and dis¬ 
appeared. 

44 You see,” said Murdoch, 44 it was a nasty 
business and gave us a shock.” 

44 Of course,” Price agreed; then turned again 
to the girl. 44 Come Julia, it’s time to be off.” 

44 No, no. I must stay. Everything is bearing me 
out; the train won’t let me go!” she averred. 

Winthrop tried to calm her excited nerves. 

44 There’s a lot of difference between the coinci¬ 
dence of two men falling dead and a phantom train,” 
he said. 

44 But the death of Ted Holmes was the beginning 
of it all, twenty years ago to-night,” cried Julia. 

At this moment, Sterling re-entered from the 
ticket-office. He crossed to Winthrop and made a 
menacing gesture. 

44 Here, I say, what’s the joke?” he exploded. 


270 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


“ Eh?” Winthrop was taken by surprise. 

“ It’s on us all right, although under the cir¬ 
cumstances it’s rather out of place. Where do we 
laugh?” demanded Sterling. 44 Didn’t you tell us 
that Saul Hodgkin dropped dead?” 

66 Yes. We carried him in there. What’s up?” 

46 Go and look.” 

44 What the deuce-?” Winthrop went over 

to the ticket-office and, after a moment, returned to 
the waiting-room again. 

44 Why — ” he cried, 44 he — he isn’t there!” 



CHAPTER XXVI 


The three men glared at each other in dead 
silence, before Murdoch pushed his way past the 
others and peered through the door of the inner 
room. Then he, too, drew back with a startled 
exclamation: 

66 Good God — it’s true, he’s gone!” 

66 But we all saw him!” cried Peggy trembling. 

Julia screamed suddenly. 64 1 know — I know! 
Don’t you see it? Don’t you see it was Ted Holmes, 
not Saul Hodgkin at all? Ted Holmes was a tall 
man with a beard, they say. It wasn’t Saul Hodg¬ 
kin you found outside the door — it was Ted 
Holmes!” 

Mrs. Winthrop hid her face in her hands. 44 It 
couldn’t have been — it couldn’t have been!” 

But Julia turned to her and cried, 44 If it was 
Saul Hodgkin, where is he now? And the time when 
all this happened — it was at eleven o’clock. I 
know it; it was Ted Holmes.” 

Price turned to the doctor in apparent despera¬ 
tion. 

44 We’ve got to get her out of here somehow, 
even if we have to use force. Come along, now, 
271 


272 THE GHOST TRAIN 

Julia.” He spoke angrily, and the girl shrank away 
from him. 

66 1 can’t come!” she whispered. 66 I’m going to 
stop here. You’re trying to drive me mad. You 
know as well as I do that the train will come, and 
you pretend that it’s my delusion. I know all about 
it; you want to put me away just as you did before 
— you’re trying to get me put away. I won’t stir 
from here, however frightened I am. You can kill 
me but I won’t go!” 

She eluded his grasp and placed herself near to 
Deakin, who all the time had been standing silent. 

Price followed her angrily. 66 Enough of this, 
Julia,” he said curtly. 

66 Don’t touch me. Go away! Go away!” the girl 
screamed. 

46 Damn it all, I-” 

46 Steady, Price,” advised Doctor Sterling. 
44 Listen to me. Why can’t you humour her a little? 
She’ll be as right as rain by the morning. Why 
don’t you clear off and leave her to me? I can man¬ 
age her better; you seem to excite her. I’ll get her 
away, I think, and if not, let her stay here. The 
train won’t come, and that may put an end to these 
attacks of hers. It’s worth thinking about, at any 
rate.” 

Price shrugged his shoulders. 44 As you please.” 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


273 


He turned to the girl. 66 I’m going, Julia. I’m 
hanged if I’m going to mess about here all night. 
Good night, all.” And without further ado he went 
out and banged the door after him. 

Julia asked more quietly after a slight pause, 
66 Where’s he gone?” 

66 He’s gone home,” returned the doctor. 66 You 
have a little rest and then we’ll all go.” 

All her fears seemed to return on her. 66 No, 
I’m going to stay here,” she insisted. 

He humoured her. 46 Very well, Julia — just 
as you like.” 

44 But it isn’t as I like,” she declared despair¬ 
ingly. 44 It’s because I’ve got to. The place terri¬ 
fies me. This room is full of evil.” 

The doctor seized his advantage and said 
eagerly: 44 Yes, Julia, yes — why not come away 
from it?” 

44 Why do you keep saying that? Why are you 
so cruel? You know I’d go if I could. Why won’t 
any of you help me?” 

Persuasion, they saw, was useless; all opposi¬ 
tion seemed to increase the girl’s determination, 
and presently the doctor gave up his entreaties. He 
turned and addressed the others. 

44 Everything considered, ladies and gentlemen, 
I really think it would be better for you people to 


274 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


follow Mr. Price’s example and clear out. It’s only 
about five miles to the farm. I think it would be 
better to risk a wetting than — well, to bring on any 
further unpleasant experiences.” 

66 Yes, yes, let’s go, Charlie,” the little bride 
cried fervently. 

64 1 think it would be better to go. I’m not ner¬ 
vous, of course, but this room is very uncomfort¬ 
able,” Mrs. Winthrop agreed. 

44 Very well, we’ll go,” said Winthrop. 44 It 
can’t be more deuced unpleasant anywhere than it 
is here.” 

There was a general movement to the door. 

44 But I say, old thing, just one fleeting mo¬ 
ment!” The words came from Deakin, who had 
taken no part in the conversation hitherto. 

44 Well?” They halted. 

44 How about the Countess?” Deakin gestured 
towards the sleeping form of Miss Bourne on the 
table. 

44 This lady is one of our party,” Winthrop 
explained to Doctor Sterling. 44 She became rather 
faint and we persuaded her into taking a little 
brandy. Something distracted our attention from 

her and she — er-” 

Deakin broke in, screwing his face into a grim¬ 
ace. 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


275 


“ She put away the lot at one fell swoop.” 

66 It puts us in rather a quandary, doesn’t it?” 
Winthrop said. 

64 Then leave this lady with us,” the doctor 
remarked promptly. 46 It’s the only way out. I’d 
advise you to get off before the rain comes on 
again.” 

The men picked up the wraps and attache cases, 
and another move was made towards the exit. The 
waiting-room had become such an extremely un¬ 
popular place that even a five-mile walk over an 
unknown Cornish road in the middle of the night 
was an agreeable prospect by comparison. Then 
Deakin announced with his usual fatuous grin, 
trotting after them: 

44 I’ve got a simply topping idea. Listen! It’s 
started raining again, and I’m not going to walk 
five miles in the rotten rain for any ghost. I’ll stay 
here as well and help look after Miss Bourne. I 
think she rather likes me; at least, she ought to 
after bagging all my brandy.” 

44 You go with the others,” advised the doctor. 
44 There’s no reason for you to remain here.” 

A sudden gust of wind drove the rain, which had 
begun to fall again, against the windows; and they 
hesitated. 

44 1 think we’d better all stay. What do you say. 


276 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Elsie?” asked Winthrop dubiously. “ The weather’s 
simply appalling and we can’t very well leave the 
old lady.” He dropped the suitcases he was carry¬ 
ing. 

64 Shall we stick it out, Pegs?” Murdoch asked 
his little wife, and she replied bravely enough: 

44 I’m game.” 

The doctor looked at them. 44 In my opinion 
you’re very unwise,” he said harshly. 44 You’d 
much better get off while you can.” 

44 / think,” remarked Deakin with a grin, 44 this 
affair is jolly sporting.” 

44 It would be very much better to take the 
ladies away,” Sterling urged; and then Julia’s 
voice was heard as if speaking to herself: 

66 They say that when it comes you hear the bell 
ringing dismally, frightfully. I wonder if the bell 
will ring to-night. Just listen — drip, drip, drip! 
Ah! This was the room where they brought those 
dead people. . . . It’s coming, I tell you; it will 
be here soon. I can feel it!” She shuddered vio¬ 
lently. 

44 Julia! Julia!” remonstrated the doctor. 

It was at this moment, while attention was con¬ 
centrated on Julia, that Deakin drew Murdoch 
aside and handed something to him that he pulled 
from his pocket. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


277 


66 1 want you to hold this,” he whispered. 
“ Don’t show it to any one. Put it in your pocket. 
Now, do you understand?” 

Murdoch looked mystified, but he pocketed the 
article, at the same time declaring emphatically, 
66 No, I don’t.” 

Deakin chuckled. 46 Of course not; neither do I. 
Dashed funny, isn’t it? Look here, I can depend on 
you to back me up, can’t I? If anything unpleas¬ 
ant happens, you’ll all be guided by me, won’t 
you?” 

Murdoch couldn’t help smiling. 64 You’re a 
fine chap to put yourself at the head of the party, 
aren’t you?” he said, with a tolerant sneer. 

44 Don’t you think so, old bean?” 

44 I’m hanged if I do.” 

44 But you’ll do as I tell you?” 

44 1 shall use my own discretion,” Murdoch 
answered coolly, and murmured to his wife, 
44 Colossal cheek of the young pup’s!” 

Julia, at the other side of the room, was speak¬ 
ing again, always in that half-tranced voice: 

44 Just as it all happened before; the whistle, the 
scream of the brakes, the shriek of the whistle, 
louder, louder, louder! So loud that the noise 
nearly kills one. It’s awful, awful! And I have to 
see it again; and if I see it again I may die.” 


*278 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


“ Then come away,” the doctor urged, taking 
her arm and attempting to draw her towards the 
door. 

64 No, no. It won’t let me; it keeps me here! 
Why don’t you all go away and leave me? When 

the train comes-” she stopped suddenly and 

listened. 

44 The train can't come,” declared Winthrop; 
but Sterling said slowly, as if he were being con¬ 
vinced against his will: 

44 We ought to be prepared. I’m not a believer 
in ghost stories, however damning the evidence, but 
I must confess that this is a jolly queer business.” 

44 If the train comes , I’ll believe the yarn,” 
returned Winthrop. 44 People can’t mess about with 
railway trains, that’s pretty certain.” 

44 The tearing of the brakes,” muttered Julia. 
44 Grinding and rasping — the shriek of the whistle 
— and a dead man lying on the platform. The 
roar, louder and louder — and then — into the 
river below — crash! Don’t you hear it? Why 

don’t you go? There’s still time-” and again 

she stopped short and listened intently. 

Away in the distance a sound rose above the 
shriek of the wind — the sound of a signal bell 
ringing in melancholy fashion. 

Julia cried: 44 The bell! The bell! You heard 




THE GHOST TRAIN 


279 


it? Now will you believe me?” She turned on 
them and flung out her hands: “The bell! The 
signal bell! It always rings.” 

“ But hang it all,” cried Winthrop aghast, “ this 
is the twentieth century!” He stared at the strained 
faces of the others. 

Peggy clutched Murdoch’s hand. “ What was 
that? I thought I heard a train whistle.” 

“ It’s coming! It’s coming!” breathed Julia. 

Deakin made for the door, crying, “ Let’s go 
and see.” 

“ No, no. Stop!” commanded Julia. The whistle 
of a train was distinctly heard in the distance. 

“ By gosh! She’s right!” muttered Winthrop. 
“ A train. Don’t you hear it? There — again!” 

“ Yes, yes, I knew it!” Julia declared mourn¬ 
fully. “It’s coming! It’s coming! Thundering 
down the valley! It’s coming! On! On! On!” 

“ I’m going to see it.” Deakin seized the door 
handle and pulled the door. “ It’s stuck.” 

Winthrop went to him and they pulled frantic¬ 
ally at the door. 

“ It’s bolted or fastened somehow-” 

Murdoch dashed to the ticket office door and 
tried it. 

“This one’s locked too! We’re shut in,” he 
called. 



280 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 Impossible!” 

44 We are, I tell you. We’re shut in!” 

They stood motionless, staring, waiting, while 
the noise of the approaching train increased every 
second. 

44 Listen to it! Listen to it! I’ve got to see it. I 
must see it. I must!” cried Julia frantically, run¬ 
ning towards the window. 

44 Hold her, some one!” shouted Sterling, seiz¬ 
ing her; hut she broke from him, screaming. 

44 Let me go! Let me go!” 

She jumped on the table with one bound, seized 
the water-bottle and smashed it through one of the 
upper panes of the window, as the train with a 
deafening roar dashed through the station with the 
whistle shrieking furiously, and with lights flashing 
past. A cloud of steam billowed into the room from 
the broken window, and the girl, with a piercing 
shriek, fell from the table and crumpled to the floor 
in a heap. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


The fury of the gale seemed to have spent 
itself with the hurricane of sound that accompanied 
the rushing of the train through the Fal Vale sta¬ 
tion; and now all was quiet, quiet as the figure of 
the girl who lay so terribly still, covered with her 
grey cloak, upon two forms they had dragged 
together side by side. 

The male passengers grouped themselves to¬ 
gether by the fireplace and talked in hushed whis¬ 
pers — the two women clung together, Mrs. Win- 
throp crying quietly, completely unnerved despite 
the brave front she had hitherto maintained. Miss 
Bourne still lay asleep upon the table blissfully 
unconscious of the weird happenings. 

Doctor Sterling was sitting by Julia, bending 
over her. For nearly an hour she had remained 
unconscious. Deakin trotted over with an elaborate 
pretense of tip-toeing, and screwing his eyeglass 
tighter into his eye, stooped over her too. 

64 Flummoxed, eh?” he asked, speaking to the 
doctor in a low whisper. 44 You’re sure she’s not 
dead?” 

44 Oh, no, she’s not dead. Her heart beat is 
281 


282 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


faint but pretty steady,” the doctor answered in 
the same tone. 

46 Haven’t you got one of those what-you-call- 
’ems — listening-in jiggers?” asked the bright boy, 
as if a brilliant and somewhat; unusual idea had 
just occurred to him. 

The doctor eyed him coldly. 44 Stethoscope, you 
mean? Of course not. I’ve got none of my instru¬ 
ments with me. She’s had these strange turns 
before, but they’ve never ended like this.” He 
took her wrist to feel the pulse. 

Winthrop joined the two. 44 1 can’t understand 
it,” he said, puzzled. 44 The train did come right 
enough: we can’t get away from that.” 

44 Yes, it all bears out the story of the ghost 
train,” Sterling said slowly. 44 Any one who sees it, 
dies.” 

44 But she’s not dead, my dear old thing,” Dea- 
kin protested. 

44 Not yet. She’s very ill.” 

44 It seems as if this train doesn’t like being 
looked at,” suggested Deakin with a winning smile. 
No one bothered to answer, and there was another 
prolonged silence. Then Sterling rose. 

44 It’s no good puzzling about this business, 
ladies and gentlemen. We’re up against something 
too big for us.” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 283 

“ You really think-” Peggy ventured and 

broke off. 

Sterling paused a moment before replying, as 
if at a loss. 

66 1 see no other explanation. When I came here 
to-night, I thought the legend about this place just a 
silly local yarn. One must take the facts into con¬ 
sideration, though, and they can’t be explained 
away. If it was old Saul you found outside the 
door, how did his body get out of the ticket office? 
There’s no window but the skylight.” 

66 If only she had told us something more before 
she fell,” Winthrop muttered. 44 I say, look!” 

The others flashed round. 

44 I thought I saw her move,” Winthrop hesi¬ 
tated. 

Julia moved an arm, and the doctor bent over 
her again. 

64 By Jove, you’re right. Better?” 

Julia sighed faintly. 44 Splendid!” 

Julia moved again, then attempted to sit up, 
aided by Sterling, who put a supporting arm round 
her. She stared about her for a moment, then said 
weakly: 44 What am I doing here?” 

44 It’s all right, you fainted or something — 
you’re better now,” the doctor encouraged her. 

44 How my head aches!” she murmured. 44 What 



284 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


is the matter with me? Oh, my head! I don’t seem 
able to remember anything. . . . Yes, I do. It was 
the train! I thought it would come to-night.” Sud¬ 
denly she flung off the covering and started to her 
feet. 66 Ah!” 

66 Be calm, Julia,” Sterling soothed her. 66 Let’s 
see if we can piece things together a little, now that 
you’re better. Sit down again.” 

The girl mechanically obeyed. 66 It’s all com¬ 
ing back to me — everything’s perfectly clear. Oh, 
yes, yes! It wasn’t my imagination! We heard the 
signal bell — yes, I remember now; we heard the 
train in the distance. I jumped on the table and 
then — and then — then I suppose I fainted. Then 
the train did come?” 

66 Yes, that was it,” acquiesced Winthrop. 

64 And none of you saw it?” she asked eagerly. 

44 Only you. The doors were fastened — we 
couldn’t get out,” Murdoch reminded her. 44 You 
broke a window and looked out.” 

44 We can’t get out now. Jolly thrilling, isn’t 
it?” grinned Deakin, who was the only one whose 
spirits were not entirely extinguished by the night’s 
events. 

44 It’s awful! What can we do? What can we 
do?” moaned Julia. 

Sterling answered resolutely, 44 We must all get 


THE GHOST TRAIN 285 

away from here — if we can, as quickly as pos¬ 
sible.” 

Julia’s eyes were staring fascinated at the win¬ 
dow. 44 Look! Look!” she cried, pointing. 

All eyes followed the pointing finger. Through 
the opaque bottom pane of the window, a glimmer 
of a red lamp was seen, passing by as though car¬ 
ried by some one walking along the platform. 

44 A red lamp! There’s some one outside.” 
Deakin went towards the door but was peremptorily 
recalled by Sterling’s voice, crying: 

44 Stop!” 

44 What’s up?” said Deakin, turning. 

44 Have you forgotten the rest of the story? 
Who do you think that is out there?” 

44 Some one to open the beastly door, I hope.” 
44 Suppose,” said Julia shrinking, 44 suppose it’s 
Ben Izaacs?” 

44 Yes,” agreed Deakin naively, and then, puz¬ 
zled, 44 Who the devil’s he?” 

44 Don’t you remember the rest of the story? 
How Ben Izaacs, the driver, went mad?” 

There came a knock on the door. 

44 Who’s there? Come in!” called Winthrop, 
but his wife thrust her way to him, begging in an 
agitated whisper: 

44 Don’t let it!” 


286 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 We must get to the bottom of this, Elsie.”. 

Five more consecutive knocks were heard at the 
door, slowly and deliberately; and Deakin picked 
up a chair and swung it. 

64 I’ll settle this,” he said. 

44 No, no! Don’t let it in! Don’t!” Julia begged. 

Deakin dropped the chair and there was a 
strained silence followed by a general relaxation 
as Sterling’s voice was heard: 

44 It’s gone, whoever it is!” and Winthrop added, 
turning to the others: 

44 Well, this caps the lot!” 

44 If it had been a man,” said Peggy, 44 he would 
have answered. How many times did he knock? 
Six, was it? Oh! I’ve just remembered something 
— no, I might be wrong.” 

44 But we ought to know.” 

44 It’s too horrible. I won’t say it.” 

44 Come along, Peggy — out with it!” Murdoch 
said. 

44 It’s just this.” The voice of the little bride 
was solemn. 44 There were six knockings at the 
door. The old station-master said there were six 
people killed. Six dead bodies they brought up 
from the mud and laid out in this very room.” She 
shuddered and hid her face on her husband’s 
shoulder. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


287 


“ I don’t think that’s got anything to do with it. 
We’ve no proof of it,” Winthrop remarked. 66 We’ve 
no proof of anything, for that matter. There’s that 
lamp again!” 

Outside, a chuckle of insane laughter sounded, 
and then a voice began to sing: 

46 Rock of Ages cleft for me 
Let me hide myself in Thee.” 
and gave way to another peal of maniacal laughter. 

66 It is Ben Izaacs!” Sterling pronounced 
grimly. 

The others were dumfounded. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, this is awful! What can 
we do? I can’t stand it. I can’t, I can’t!” Julia 
declared. 64 There it is again!” She screamed. 
44 He’s trying to get in.” 

44 What can we do? What can any one do?” 
whispered Peggy in a horror-struck voice. 

44 That’s just it,” said Murdoch, 44 what can we 
do? And yet, something must be done, or these 
women will go mad.” 

Winthrop mopped his brow with a pocket hand¬ 
kerchief. 

44 God! We’ll all go mad if this goes on much 
longer.” 

44 We must get away at all costs,” Sterling said. 
44 Do you feel well enough to walk, Julia?” 


288 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 Yes, I think so. I’ll do anything if only we 
can get away,” Julia breathed faintly. 

He put the cloak about her shoulders. 44 Then 
let’s get out of here as soon as possible.” 

66 Where can we go?” asked Murdoch. 

64 Anywhere. There should be shelter in a shed 
or a barn somewhere about. Anything is better 
than this.” 

Once more they prepared to leave the waiting- 
room, but once more they were arrested by Deakin’s 
cheerful voice: 

44 But, my dear old things, you’ve forgotten 
something.” 

44 Eh? What’s that?” Winthrop halted to say. 

44 We’re fastened in, aren’t we? We jolly well 
can’t get out.” 

44 Where there’s a will there’s a way. We can 
break down the door,” Sterling said. 

44 And then we shall have to pay for the dam¬ 
age; we’ve broken a beastly window as it is,” 
expostulated Deakin. 

Winthrop regarded him blankly. 44 Well, I’m 
damned! If you aren’t the absolute limit! I never 
in all my life. You-” words failed him com¬ 

pletely. 

44 And there’s another thing too! The ladies 
were quite right just now. If we break down the 



THE GHOST TRAIN 289 

door we shall let in that chap outside.” Deakin 
peered up ingratiatingly at his listeners. 

44 Yes. Don’t open the door, whatever you do,” 
came from Elsie. 

44 Now look here, Elsie,” said Winthrop in exas¬ 
peration. 64 Just listen to me, Mrs. Murdoch. If it’s 
a man outside, it’s quite safe, we’re four to one; if 
it’s not a man — if it’s not a man, no locked door 
will keep it out; do you follow me?” He went to 
both doors and tried them. 44 They’re still fastened, 
both of them. We’ll break this one down.” He 
lifted one of the benches, and was about to heave 
it at the outer door, when the gas began to fade 
gradually. 

44 Wait! There it is again!” Julia broke in 
faintly. 

Another insane peal of laughter rang out from 
the unseen voice outside the room. 

44 We shall have to face it. It’s madness if we 
stay here,” declared Winthrop. 44 Good God! The 
light is going out! There’s some devil’s work here.” 

The gas suddenly flickered out, leaving the 
place in pitch darkness. 

Deakin flashed a torch about the room. 44 Every 
one all right?” he called cheerfully. 44 Phew! 
There’s a smell of gas. I believe it’s on again. 
Strike a match, some one.” 


290 THE GHOST TRAIN 

Murdoch struck a match and relit the gas. 66 So 
it is.” 

66 Oh, look at that!” Julia whispered. They all 
turned. 

66 Why, the doors are open!” 

66 Come along, let’s clear out,” Sterling said, 
and led Julia to the open door. 

66 Wait a moment,” warned Deakin. 44 The 
Countess.” 

44 Just a second,” said Winthrop. 44 We must 
make some arrangement about Miss Bourne.” He 
went to the door and looked out into the darkness. 
44 We’d better get ready to bolt for it.” 

44 Now, please -” interposed Deakin, and 

Winthrop whirled on him savagely. 

44 What, are you starting again?” 

44 1 want you all to listen to me and take my 
advice,” Deakin remarked jovially. 44 1 bags that 
none of us go, eh? Let’s all stay here.” 

44 Stay here? Good Lord! Don’t listen to the 
fool. Stay here, indeed!” Sterling exploded. 
44 When we’re in great danger; up against some 
devilish thing? If we stay, God knows what may 
happen to us. It was different when the doors were 
fastened; we had no choice in the matter then. 
Now it’s up to us to take the opportunity and bolt.” 

44 Well, you go,” agreed Deakin, heartily. 44 I’ll 



THE GHOST TRAIN 


291 


stay and look after Miss Bourne. You’ll do the old 
girl in, digging her out at this hour, especially 
after the binge she was on.” 

66 1 don’t follow you,” said Murdoch, impa¬ 
tiently. 

66 It’s quite easy. I’ll stay here with Miss Bourne. 
She’ll be all right. She won’t wake till morning — 
that brandy of mine was pre-war. You see, I’m 
just as much afraid as any of you — I’m very 
nearly scared to pulp; but there’s a world of dif¬ 
ference between being afraid and running away. 
What would my people say if they knew that I’d 
been running about all night, grinning like a dog 
and getting my trousers muddy out of pure funk?” 

66 We’ve simply got to go,” said Sterling 
angrily. 

46 Very well, I’m not stopping you, am I? You 
can all go and take the ladies with you. I’ll stay 
here with Miss Bourne; or you take Miss Bourne 
with you and may the marriage bells ring out 
right merrily!” 

46 We all go, eh?” Sterling said. 44 All go 
together!” 

44 You all go. I stay,” repeated Deakin obsti¬ 
nately. 

44 It’s not safe, you fool — once and for all, 
you’re not going to stay here alone.” 


292 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


44 Steady on, doctor,” Murdoch put in. 64 1 sup¬ 
pose the fellow has a right to please himself, how¬ 
ever great a fool he is.” 

44 Thank you, kind sir.” Deakin beamed on 
him. 44 Now I put it to you, old bean. Will you 
stay with me?” 

44 Easy on,” said Murdoch. 44 It’s — it’s like 
this — I have my wife to consider.” 

44 Oh, quite,” agreed Deakin. 44 Very well, I’ll 
stay alone. Trot along.” 

44 Why have you made up your mind to stop 
here?” asked Sterling suspiciously. 

44 1 want to see what happens next,” answered 
Deakin guilelessly. 

44 And do you mean to say you’ll risk your life 
and reason for that?” The doctor appealed to the 
rest of the party. 44 The chap’s gone mad. It’s our 
duty to take him away with us.” 

44 No, you don’t,” Deakin declared equably. 
44 I’m going to jolly well wait here and see that 
train come back.” He sat down on one of the forms. 
44 The train that went through an hour ago, you 
know.” 

44 It won’t come back,” protested Sterling. 
44 There’s nothing in the story to suggest it. And if 
it did come back, it might mean death to all of us. 
This train has a supernatural origin, you fool.” 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


293 


“ Has it?” asked Deakin agreeably. 

“ Do you doubt it, then?” 

66 To be perfectly candid, I do. Anyway, I’m 
going to wait and see.” Even as he spoke, the red 
lamp appeared again at the window and a second 
later, the figure of an old man with a dead white 
face and a driver’s cap pulled down over his eyes 
passed the open door bearing a lamp in his hand. 
In the darkness outside nothing was very distinct as 
the wraith-like figure passed on. 

44 Now perhaps you’re satisfied,” cried Sterling 
grimly. 

46 I’m damned if I am!” 

With that cry a remarkable thing happened. 
Edward Deakin’s whole manner changed. The eye¬ 
glass fell from his eye, his weedy figure straight¬ 
ened, his high-pitched voice vanished, giving place 
to one of authoritative command, and he whipped a 
revolver from his pocket as he sprang into the centre 
of the room and fired at the passing figure outside. 
44 Now for it,” he shouted. 44 Hold that!” 

The figure vanished, dropping the lamp in its 
flight, and Deakin rushed outside and picked it up. 

44 Ghost or no ghost, I’ve winged him, and that’s 
that.” He pointed to the platform. 44 Look! Blood!” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


Sterling, watching in frozen astonishment, 
cried in a panic: 66 What have you done?” 

66 You’ll soon see,” Deakin replied with grim 
purposefulness. “Listen! Do you hear? That’s the 
train again.” 

In the distance a faint rumbling heralded the 
approach of a locomotive. 

“ Oh! Oh! It’s coming back,” whispered Peggy. 

Deakin’s quick, alert glance darted from one 
face to the other. “ Yes, it’s coming back all right, 
but don’t worry. I’ve got this in hand. I’ve laid one 
ghost already, and now I’m going to switch that 
ghost train onto the siding.” He took a step back 
to the door but Sterling tried to intercept him with 
a hoarse cry. 

“Stop! Stop!” 

Deakin turned on Sterling and threatened him 
with his revolver. “ Get back! Up with your 
hands!” he commanded sternly, and the doctor 
obeyed. “ Where are you, Murdoch?” 

“ Here.” Murdoch came forward. 

“ Where’s that revolver I gave you?” 

“ I’ve got it.” Murdoch felt in his pocket and 
294 


THE GHOST TRAIN 295 

drew out the pistol Deakin had handed him an hour 
ago. 

66 Then watch this devil till I come back.” 

The rumbling of the approaching train grew 
louder as Deakin dashed onto the platform once 
more. The sound of three shots outside followed in 
quick succession and then the noise of the train 
diminished till it died away altogether. 

44 I’ve done it! We’ve got her onto the siding,” 
Deakin exclaimed as he reappeared. 

44 Look here-” growled the discomfited 

Sterling, but Deakin interrupted him ruthlessly. 

46 It’s no good, the game’s up.” 

64 Do you mean,” said Winthrop, as the truth 
dawned on him, 44 that we’ve been had? That there’s 
no ghost train?” 

44 1 do,” Deakin returned drily. 44 These people 
are at the bottom of it. That train is as real as the 
Plymouth express.” 

44 1 tell you-” expostulated Sterling fiercely, 

but once again Deakin broke in with an abrupt, 
44 Shut up!” 

44 But what’s their game?” cried the mystified 
Murdoch. 

44 I’m not sure yet, but we’ll soon know. Ah! 
here we are.” 

There was a sound of footsteps outside, and 




296 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


as he spoke two men entered the doorway and stood 
there, apparently being driven from behind. The 
first was the apparition who had so recently 
appeared. His hand, which was clasped round the 
wrist of the other arm, was covered with blood. The 
other was the station-master, Saul Hodgkin. Behind 
them came a burly man with rolling eyes and a grey 
moustache followed by two policemen in plain 
clothes. 

46 What the deuce!” cried Winthrop, and Mur¬ 
doch added in unmitigated astonishment, 44 Why, 
here’s our old friend Saul!” 

Deakin smiled. 66 Yes, he got you all with that 
sham dead trick of his, and a clever little exit from 
the ticket office I discovered when I examined this 
station a month ago. You were all too panicked to 
spot it. Got ’em all, Jackson?” 

Jackson beamed. 44 Yes, sir, I think so.” 

44 Who’s this chap?” Deakin approached the 
apparition and tweaked off his white wig and beard. 
44 Hello! I thought it was you I winged, Price. Hurt 
you much?” 

Price growled. 44 You put a bullet right through 
my arm, damn you!” 

44 Thank your lucky stars it wasn’t right through 
your head, damn you!” Deakin retorted sharply. 

Peggy put a timid little hand on Deakin’s. 


THE GHOST TRAIN 297 

46 Hadn’t the doctor better see to his arm?” she 
whispered. 

64 Doctor? What doctor?” asked Deakin. 

44 Why, Doctor Sterling.” 

Deakin smiled. 44 He’s no more a doctor than 
you are, Mrs. Murdoch. Didn’t you see him take 
Miss Price’s pulse with his thumb?” 

Sterling turned furiously upon him. 44 Who the 
hell are you?” 

This was Jackson’s big moment. He stepped 
forward, his chest swelling with pride and impor¬ 
tance as he made his statement. 

44 Why, haven’t you tumbled to him yet? That’s 
Captain Edward Morrison of the Secret Service!” 

44 Not,” said Winthrop, 44 the Morrison who 
pulled that big stunt off at Cologne?” 

Teddie grinned again. 44 Quite. You all had 
rather a down on me, didn’t you? Got the train all 
right, Jackson?” 

44 Yes, sir, we’ve got her.” 

44 What was it they were carrying?” 

44 Just as you thought, sir — machine guns.” 

44 Ah!” the detective drew a deep breath. 

44 Machine guns?” echoed Murdoch. 

44 Exactly,” Morrison said. 44 Allow me to 
introduce you to some rather interesting people. 
Mr. Charles Silverton and Mr. John Silverton of the 


298 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Silverway Modelling Clay Company, whose works 
are a few miles up the line. Otherwise Mr. Rupert 
d’Alvarez of Barcelona, and Herr Otto Schnitz of 
Cologne. The train outside is full of machine guns. 
They’ve been landing large quantities in the hope 
of stirring up a big revolution. What a hope! Fools! 
England’s too fine for that and too sensible. Thanks 
for your help, Murdoch.” He took the revolver from 
him and, crossing to Jackson, handed it to him. 64 1 
wasn’t absolutely certain until to-night,” he resumed, 
44 but I made up my mind to get to the bottom of 
this — especially after you killed Heath.” Mor¬ 
rison turned a stern look on the station-master. 
44 Heath was the tramp they found dead — he was 
my friend and my best assistant. You can tell us 
about that, Hodgkin.” 

The station master quailed before the anger of 
his glance. 44 1 didn’t do it,” he quavered. 44 1 didn’t 
do it. No one can prove it! It’s their fault, every 
bit of it. Would to God I’d never touched their dirty 
money!” 

44 Shut up!” The man who had called himself 
Sterling menaced him with a gesture; but Saul went 
on desperately: 

44 It’s all very well for you, you who haven’t no 
wife and childer — five pound a time they paid me 
to run that train down from their works to the old 


THE GHOST TRAIN 299 

granite jetty and bring back their guns and such¬ 
like.” 

“ It’s a lie!” 

64 It bain’t, and you know it! A score o’ times 
you’ve done it; and now it’s the likes o’ me ’as to 
suffer. Damn you, the lot of yer!” the old man burst 
out. 

44 Got the cars all right, Jackson?” Morrison 
asked. 

44 Yes, sir.” 

44 Take ’em away.” 

One of the constables seized Hodgkin by the 
shoulder and pushed him out, and the two men were 
handcuffed and led away by Jackson and the other 
policeman. 

44 1 don’t see it quite, even now,” Mrs. Winthrop 
hesitated. 

44 It’s perfectly clear, Mrs. Winthrop,” Morrison 
explained. 44 We’ve had an eye on these people for 
some time. They started this clay works near here in 
an out-of-the-way spot to make it a distributing 
centre for the arms they’ve smuggled into the coun¬ 
try. Almost anything can be sent around hidden in 
clay. I sent Heath to investigate and he was killed 
— murdered in this very room. These people bought 
over the station-master here and have been run¬ 
ning a train about once a month from their works 


300 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


to the old granite jetty just down below. Motor cars 
would have aroused suspicion in a quiet place like 
this. A Hamburg boat brought the arms here — all 
the rest was plain sailing.” 

“ Then,” asked Peggy, 66 is the whole story of 
the accident made up?” 

No. The accident did happen, and there is a 
strong local superstition about the ghost train. Most 
likely that gave them their idea, anyway it made 
their job easier because people have been taught 
for years to run for their lives if they hear a train in 
the night. The great thing was that they didn’t want 
any one in this room to-night because the guns 
might be spotted or the bottom knocked out of the 
ghost story on which they rely, and so when the 
station-master couldn’t get rid of us, they set about 
to scare us out. But they didn’t do it, did they? 
You’ve all been splendid. Not forgetting the Count¬ 
ess.” For a moment his voice took on the old fatu¬ 
ous Deakin tone, and there was a general murmur 
of apologetic laughter. 

66 Do you mean that every bit was a put-up job?” 
asked Winthrop after a pause. 

66 This is what happened to-night. When Saul 
found he couldn’t get rid of us, he went off to the 
Silverton’s house and told them we were here. The 
house is only half a mile away, not five. There was 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


301 


no time to lose, so they jumped up and came along 
to put over that crazy stuff and shift us that way.” 
His eyes dwelt sombrely for a moment on Julia’s 
motionless form. All this time she had been sitting 
completely silent, as though she were barely awake 
from a dream. 

66 Then why didn’t Saul send us off to Price’s?” 
Winthrop demanded. 

64 Good Lord, they didn’t want us there any more 
than here — this was their busy night!” Morrison 
laughed. 

Mrs. Murdoch turned and looked at Julia. 44 But 
what about this poor girl? They’ve duped her just 
as they did us; frightened her with that story of the 
ghost train. I wonder why?” 

Teddie looked at Julia again. 44 1 shall soon find 
that out,” he repeated quietly. 44 Here’s Jackson 
— I expect he’s got the other cars waiting for you, 
and you’d better all trot off and get to Truro and to 
bed.” He turned to the table by the window where 
Miss Bourne was lying fast asleep. 44 We’ve only 
got one little trouble left. Here it is.” He shook her 
gently by the shoulder. Miss Bourne showed signs 
of waking. 

44 She’s moving,” said Murdoch. 44 Hello, Miss 
Bourne! Better?” 

Miss Bourne raised herself and looked about 


302 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


her. 66 My head aches terribly,” she remarked. 
66 Where’s my Joey?” 

66 Here he is.” Murdoch dragged the parrot- 
cage out from under the table, then assisted her to 
rise. “ There’s a car waiting for us all. You’ll soon 
be safe in Truro.” 

Miss Bourne breathed a sigh of relief, as she 
exclaimed devoutly: 66 Oh, I’m so glad nothing 
exciting has happened!” 

A moment later Teddie Morrison and Julia 
Price were left alone. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


Neither spoke for awhile. Julia remained 
seated on her chair near the dead fire, the grey 
cloak wrapped about her, her hands clasped loosely 
on her knees, her grey eyes staring straight ahead 
with a mystified gaze. 

Morrison stood half a dozen paces away from 
her, looking down at her bent head intently. The 
game was finished — and he had won. All his most 
far-reaching imaginings were now proved facts. He 
could not help a little pleased glow when he thought 
of his work in the dark and how unerring his calcula¬ 
tions had been, after all. From the moment he had 
caught sight of the faces of those two men as he 
made his escape from the house in the hollow of 
the hills he had known just how exactly each piece 
of the puzzle had fitted into the next — and how 
the game had been so infinitely bigger than he had 
ever thought until that moment. To-night, too, the 
gods had been on his side. And to-morrow, the 
Chief would know; and he felt pretty sure that this 
time the Chief would not be disappointed in the 
result of one disciple’s training. What an odd game 
it had been all along! No actual proof — (what 
303 


304 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


was the Chief’s little motto about that — 66 You don’t 
want proof; think, seek, and find ”). So much for 
Captain Edward Gascoigne Morrison, M.C., D.S.O., 
of the Foreign Department of the Secret Service. So 
much for to-morrow. 

But to-night, he was Teddie Morrison the man, 
and alone with the girl of the grey eyes in the 
deserted waiting-room of the wayside Cornish Sta¬ 
tion. For four out of the five hours the little party of 
stranded passengers had spent on that station, Julia 
had been of the company, and all the time he had 
watched her narrowly. Not a look, not a gesture 
had escaped his keen eyes. And not in one single 
instance had he been able to detect a false note in her 
attitude, search for it as he might. He had convinced 
himself at last that her presence there, her fear 
of the train and the magnetism with which it yet 
drew her in spite of herself were as real as the train 
had proved itself to be. He saw now with perfect 
clearness how the two brothers so-called had played 
upon her vivid, sensitive imagination and kept her 
in their toils by the exploitation of that dreadful 
fear; how, too, it had served to veil from her their 
real doings and enabled them to carry on the run¬ 
ning of the guns (the barrels of which he had dis¬ 
covered hidden in the clay-filled mummy-cases in 


THE GHOST TRAIN 305 

the old scientist’s workshop) and the experiments 
with poison without suspicion on her part. 

To-night, too, there was one great question to be 
settled by words from Julia’s own lips, besides the 
one or two minor points which were now of so much 
less importance. 

Going across to her, he stood at her side with 
folded arms; and she looked up at him, meeting the 
look in his eyes with an open sincerity that made 
him, for the thousandth time, metaphorically kick 
himself for doubting her, for ever having doubted 
her. 

She rose to her feet. 66 1 will go now,” she mur¬ 
mured. 

66 Where will you go, Julia?” 

She sighed. 64 Back to the house where my 
father is.” 

44 He is better?” 

44 Better, but not well yet,” she said with another 
little sigh. 44 1 daren’t think of the future for him.” 

It was on the tip of his tongue to utter the words: 
64 We’ll take care of him together now,” but instead 
he said: 

44 There are some things I don’t yet understand, 
Julia. You knew that the Silvertons were really 
Schnitz and D’Alvarez, didn’t you?” 

44 Not quite,” she replied candidly. 44 1 thought 


306 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


Schnitz and D’Alvarez were really the Silvertons; 
which is different. But I was afraid of them always 
— oh, so horribly afraid — and confused by it all. 
I had to do what they bade me. D’Alvarez used to 
make me sit for him; he modelled my head and 
hands in clay; and I hated it! They often forced me 
to do things of which I was unaware. I was only 
happy — and then not really — when they were not 
here. After they took me to Cologne and brought 
me back in a little tramp steamer, I hadn’t seen them 
again till yesterday; but they were not often so long 
away.” She paused, her brow wrinkled in thought. 
“ I suppose it had something to do with the jewels 
you told me they had stolen from that Cologne 
studio. But even then I couldn’t get my father to 
believe it, or to come away with me.” 

She spoke with a simple force, but her manner 
was calm, with a new strength and confidence Mor¬ 
rison had never seen before. It was as though she 
had come suddenly out of a troubled sea into calm 
waters and her storm-tossed soul had found haven 
at last. Suddenly he had a vision of the woman 
of the house in the valley; of a Julia binding and 
bathing his injured ankle, on her knees before him; 
a Julia carrying in the tray and dispensing the 
tea with a sweet gracefulness; a Julia pale with 
anxiety about her father’s illness, and weeping bit- 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


307 


terly over the death of her pet dog. All the little 
problems he wanted solved melted into nothingness 
beside these facts which he had witnessed with his 
own eyes. The one urgent question alone remained, 
and still he delayed putting it. 

66 Aren’t you afraid of going back to that house?” 
he asked after a pause. 

66 Afraid? Now? No, never again.” Her face 
was illumined with a wonderful smile, all the fear 
had vanished from her eyes. 64 They won’t be there, 
and the train will never come again. You have killed 
fear for me, for ever.” 

44 Tell me, Julia — tell me, I must know — 
why did you want me to stay, and why, afterwards, 
did you send me away?” 

He took a step nearer, and put both his hands on 
her shoulders as he spoke. For a moment she did 
not answer. 

44 Because,” she said at length in a low voice, 
44 when I knew they were coming back that night I 
was frantic—oh, you don’t know, you can’t imagine 
how awful it was to be in the grip of that fear — 
always, always there!— and I thought if you stayed 
you would help me. You were stronger than I, 
stronger than they; I felt it, I knew it. And you had 
planned to go. So I pretended Mrs. Barrett had to 
leave me alone, and I prevailed on you to remain.” 


308 


THE GHOST TRAIN 


66 And then-?” 

66 And then,” she murmured, “ when you had 
your arms round me, I suddenly understood why. 
I recognised you fully at that moment; I knew who 
you were and that you would be in great danger. 
And I couldn’t bear you to run the risk of meeting 
— them. In desperation I asked you to carry the 
tray out to the kitchen, so that you might discover 
the lie I told you about Mrs. Barrett and doubt me, 
and go. And you did doubt me — you thought I 
wasn’t worth bothering about, and you went.” 

66 But, Julia, my dear — why did it matter to 
you whether I ran into danger or not?” 

He had her wholly in his arms now, and bent his 
head to hear the words he hoped she would speak, 
the words that meant so much. Julia drooped her 
head against his breast. 66 Because, then,” she whis¬ 
pered, 66 1 knew-” 

66 Yes, Julia, yes?” 

“ I knew that I loved you, my dear.” 


THE END 


































































